


War of the Twin Cities

by kinglongoria



Series: Saiya Knight Saga [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Mercenaries, Naval Combat, Siege Warfare, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinglongoria/pseuds/kinglongoria
Summary: Knight Prince Vegeta and his knights head off to another land to learn and experience real combat. Hired on as mercenaries they are embroiled in their first real taste of a true military campaign as two rival City States erupt in open warfare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ but it would be a lot cooler if I did...
> 
> AN: The Sequel to the highly fun to write Knight of Saiya short. If you haven't read that story I highly recommend reading it first. It's only 5 chapters and this picks up after it. Feel free to leave any reviews or private message me your thoughts.
> 
> It's rated T for Teen but does contain some adult language and situations.

Vegeta sat in the office of the Grandmaster. It was a grand place. The desk was made of finely polished dark wood and intricately decorated in silver and sapphires forming the symbol of the order. The walls held paintings depicting epic battles of days long past. Scrolls and letters covered the desk. The room itself smelled of sweet smelling fine incense.

The grandmaster himself stood behind the great desk looming over him. He was a tall and proud middle aged man. His balding black hair was just starting lose its color and become silver. His body still retained some of the muscles of the warrior he once was. The grandmaster had clearly put on weight over the years due to increasing age and a lack of a strict training discipline.

He wore a formal blue and silver tabard with the ornate silver sword on his breast. His arms were crossed and he bore a look of heavy discontent on his face. Vegeta could tell he was unhappy. Though he would have to choose the words he spoke to his prince carefully.

Vegeta would also have to hide his disappointment with the man. From what he could remember, Lord Bio of House Ganelon was supposed to be as legendary a commander as Bardock and his father. At least in his younger days, now he looked considerably softer. Twenty years at court would do that to a man he supposed.

This was only Vegeta's second meeting with the man that he could remember. He had only met him once before when he joined the order. His rank as the Crown Prince demanded his attention. Though he knew it was just a formality and the man only really gave him his assignment orders. Still Vegeta could barely remember it because he paid little attention to such things in those days.

"My prince," the grandmaster greeted him with disdain.

"You called me here," Vegeta mentioned casually.

"Yes," the grandmaster said as he sat down. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Vegeta shrugged feigning ignorance.

"Don't play coy with me," the grandmaster threatened with a steely voice. "You know exactly what I mean."

"I suppose that I do," Vegeta replied impishly with a slight grin. "Adrestia, Kakarot and I wish to remain together."

"You should never have been out on that mission to begin with," he informed the prince. "Honestly you should have never have been assigned to Captain Bardock in the first place either. But the orders came down from above."

"What do you mean?" Vegeta asked as he raised a brow.

"The queen insisted you be assigned to him. I have no idea why," He admitted to the prince. "Still I could have refused. This is still my order and I am in charge. If I had none of this would have ever happened."

Vegeta laughed, "I would have liked to have seen that." No one dared cross his mother.

"Still I will not have you carrying on like that anymore. This is a ceremonial and training order. We will not have any more lords and ladies die for nothing," the grandmaster remarked with a dismissive waive of his hand.

"They didn't die for nothing!" Vegeta spat out, losing his temper slightly.

"Oh then tell me what was it for?" the grandmaster challenged. "For those filthy peasants in some village so remote it's barely on a map?"

Vegeta stood up quickly. His chair lurched loudly behind him and fell over. He eyed the old man fiercely unafraid. No one was going to casually insult the memory of his fallen comrades to his face. Not even this old bastard.

"Have you forgotten what this order started out as? Perhaps it's time for a new grandmaster," Vegeta hissed at the man.

The grandmaster banged on his desk hard and rose himself. "Mind your tone. You may be the Crown Prince but only the King can remove me from this position. And while I am still grandmaster this order will operate as it always has."

Vegeta clenched his jaw and held his tongue for a moment. The old man was right. Unfortunately for him his father also shared the grandmaster's views. So for now he would have to bide his time.

"Perhaps you are right," Vegeta crossed his arms, tilted his head to the side and begrudgingly admitted, " _For the time being_."

"Well _for the time being_ you will not recruit any other members to your foolish little club. You, Adrestia and Kakarot may form your own team and stay together, but that is all." The grandmaster ordered.

"Fine," Vegeta relented through clenched teeth. "We will not recruit any other knights in the order."

"There is a good lad," The grandmaster gloated with a grin. "That will be all."

Vegeta saluted the man and walked out the door. The grandmaster was cleverer than he gave him credit for. He could see they were gaining a following. If others joined them then someday this would become a real knightly order again. And his cushy assignment would be over. Still there was more than one way to honor his old captain's memory.

"Oh and don't even think of asking for a promotion," the grandmaster called out behind him.

0-0-0

Vegeta sat with Kakarot and Adrestia in the dining hall of the barracks. It was an exquisite place with expensive furniture and fine cuisine served to all the knights stationed there. The wine was of the best quality available in Vegos. They were all enjoying the rather exquisite food afforded to them while they were here, particularly Kakarot. The Battle of Austurica had taught them to appreciate such luxury more, especially since they wanted to travel about to distant lands and learn to become real warriors for a change. This was their first meal back since returning.

They had the table to themselves. The hall was filled with other knights laughing, singing, drinking to excess, and carrying on amongst themselves. Yet none would sit with them. It was as if they were being shunned. Even their tabards appeared to be of two different orders rather than belonging to the same ones.

It felt as though it had been years since they had eaten here, however the truth was they were only gone a few months. Just a little while ago, Vegeta would have been right along with the rest of these knights frivolously laughing and drinking his time away. How things had changed since then. Austurica had changed them all profoundly. Nothing felt the same to them. They could no longer see things the same as they once had.

"How did your meeting with the grandmaster go?" Kakarot asked Vegeta with a mouthful of food.

"Manners Kakarot, at least swallow first," Adrestia chided him with a disapproving tone.

Kakarot conceded and swallowed before he apologized, "Sorry Adrestia."

"Never mind his table manners, the fool will never change," Vegeta told her.

Adrestia gestured with her cup and refused to give in, "I can at least try to impart some decorum in him."

"As you wish," Vegeta relented with a hand up in surrender.

Vegeta cut a delicious bit from his rare steak. The meat was cooked just how he liked it. The chefs here knew his tastes very well. It was just bloody enough to enhance the flavor. Food was one of the only things he and Kakarot could agree on before. He would have to look into preparing food like this for himself, so he wasn't always so reliant on others to do it for him.

"You were saying?" Adrestia reminded him.

"It went as I predicted, he was very skeptical. However he did grant us the right to form our own detachment," Vegeta informed them all.

"Does that mean you were promoted to captain?" Adrestia inquired with a peaked brow.

"I was not. He also did not authorize us to recruit any existing members. So as of right now it will consist of just the three of us. As such he did not feel the need to promote me," Vegeta recounted with a hint of bitterness.

"What does that mean?" Kakarot blurted out, confused as to the seeming contradictions.

"It means he doesn't want things to change," Adrestia concluded.

"Quite right, he wants things to remain as they are. Yet as his prince I still hold enough power over him to force some concessions," Vegeta told them.

Adrestia thought about why the grandmaster would reject Vegeta. She had only seen him a few times before. Even though the order was currently mostly ceremonial, her house was not important enough to warrant face time with the man. Only Vegeta had that sort of power among them.

She honestly didn't blame him for wanting things to remain the same. He reaped all the rewards of being grandmaster of a knight order and had none of the risks. He was not supposed to send his knights out on missions. Plus he could always expect recruits and donations from the elite noble houses. There was honestly little incentive to do anything different.

Still he had not closed the door on them yet. It was a huge blow not to be able to recruit any existing members it was true. However if they went by his exact words it did leave a few options. One was risky and they would have to be crafty about it, but she was sure they could do it.

Adrestia drank her wine and deduced, "It only leaves room for one possibility, the recruiting ceremony at the Field of Zelus."

"Hmmm you may be right," Vegeta agreed as he stroked his chin, "We were never expressly forbidden from getting new recruits. We were simply barred from recruiting _existing_ members of the order."

"Won't that make the grandmaster mad?" Kakarot wondered, scratching his head.

"I'm sure it will. That's why we will just do it and not ask him. That way he can't object," Vegeta said with a puckish grin.

"Brilliant then you can use his own words against him and remind him you did not recruit any existing members," Adrestia remarked as a grin spread to her pouty lips.

"The festival is in a few weeks. It should be enough time to commission a banner and set up own tent," Kakarot pointed out.

"Adrestia I'll leave that to you. Be sure we are far enough away that the order recruiter won't notice us but in busy enough section to attract them recruits we need," Vegeta instructed her.

"Leave it to me," Adrestia said with a nod.

"What should I do?" Kakarot wondered.

"You can use your father's contacts to get extra supplies for us," Vegeta told him.

"Couldn't you do that easier?" Kakarot questioned.

"I would attract too much attention. I don't want the order or my father to know exactly what we are doing or where we go. It will make life much simpler for us that way," Vegeta informed him.

"That's a good point," Kakarot agreed.

"Where are we going to go?" Adrestia inquired with all sincerity.

"Well life is peaceful here. We can't learn about being a proper knight being here. So I think we should leave on a journey," Vegeta suggested.

"We can't just wander the world aimlessly like vagabonds," Adrestia reminded him.

"How about we go south?" Kakarot suggested.

"Why south?" Vegeta asked.

"South of Saiya is the old imperial heartland. It's dissolved into City States now that are constantly in conflict with each other," Kakarot reminded them.

"That is true. My father constantly talks about it in his trade deals," Adrestia informed them.

The Tiberian heartland, Vegeta had always heard it was a beautiful place. Before now he never thought about leaving the borders of his own country. Now it seemed like the perfect opportunity for them to learn about war and politics on the small scale without being involved in a major foreign battle. He had to give Kakarot credit for this idea, every once in a while the man was a genius.

There were going to be some conditions however. They could not travel as members of the order. So they had to leave their tabards here and anything with an obvious crest on it. Saiya could be seen as officially endorsing one city or another if anyone recognized who they were. It meant they would have to appear as wandering hedge knights or mercenaries.

"Excellent Kakarot that is perfect. However we will have to travel in disguise," Vegeta told them.

"And after we went through the trouble of getting new tabards," Kakarot pouted a bit.

"It can't be helped. We must blend in with all the other mercenaries and traveling warriors," Adrestia told the man.

"First things first though. Let's see if we can get anyone to come with us," Vegeta said with a smile.

0-0-0

It was a jovial summer day in Vegos. The city was alive and in a festive mood this bright, sunny day. A weeklong festival would be filled with parades, martial contests, and revelry to celebrate the founding of Saiya. For nobles and commons alike it was a time of pride and joy. The unification took place so long ago that none now live who remember being separate kingdoms. Two hundred and sixty five years seems like forever but it was only six kings since their noble founder Vegeta I walked among them.

Their current prince was supposed be the seventh ruler, but things were not going as planned with the succession. It was whispered that the prince all but renounced his crown in front of the entire court. The common folk had no idea what actually occurred since no official decree had been announced. It was proclaimed that the queen was pregnant and if the Great Mother was kind, another prince would be born securing the line of succession of their great royal line.

The prince himself was rumored to attend the recruitment ceremony at the Field of Zelus today. It was an odd move as he had never done such a thing in the past. He had been officially knighted by his father along with Lady Adrestia Blacksteel and Lord Kakarot Sunspear, the other nobles who were with him on his battle at Austurica.

The Field itself was covered in tents and banners as the military orders from all corners of Saiya gathered. The recruiting officers were in their finest, polished armors. Ornate and intricately sewn banners flew high breeze with proud sigils of wolves, hawks, griffins and all sorts of beasts. Youths from all over who had just reached the minimum recruitment age gathered about them in hopes of joining them. Some orders only took nobles, some took in mostly commoners, and others still took in a mix of both.

One area stuck out amongst all the finery and bluster of activity. It was a simple leather tent with no extra banners or ribbons to make it opulent. It looked simple and made for utility. Outside flew a peculiar banner that had never been seen before in the ceremony. It was a simple flaming ivory sword on a field of blue. The sigil looked familiar but was perplexing to the people who passed. As the hours went on a small crowd of about twenty gathered about it half curious and to whom it belonged to and what they were about.

At noon as the sun raised his high in the sky three people walked out of the tent to greet the crowd who had gathered here. They were two men and one woman. All were dressed in combat armor with simplistic blue tabards with their sigil on it. Their armor was not as polished or bejeweled as the rest of the recruiters.

The tallest man who many had assumed was the leader wore an innocent expression on his face. The shorter man had a crimson sash covering his right eye. The woman was gorgeous and wore her hair back in a single braid. They both bore more serious looks than their comrade.

"Quite the crowd we have gathered," Vegeta joked coolly.

"Well this is the first time the order has ever had its own combat detachment. Many aren't used to seeing its banner like this," Adrestia pointed out.

"Can we talk about our names? I think mine is ridiculous." Kakarot said scratching his head.

"What's wrong with Sunspear?" Vegeta asked the man.

"Well the whole story behind it is made up. I didn't pick up my father's spear during the battle. I mainly used my own sword and a bow. My father didn't even have a particular spear he used. They just happened to find me with a spear in my hands," Kakarot recounted.

Vegeta stroked his chin and agreed, "It does sound a little too poetic to have actually happened."

"I don't think you get to choose your own name they call you. It sort of just builds its way around you whether built on truths or falsehoods," Adrestia reminded him.

"At least your name makes sense. Your sword turned black after the flames died out. Plus Blacksteel just sounds cool," Kakarot admitted with a hint of envy.

"It all sounds silly to me," Adrestia giggled.

"Shall we get back to the matter at hand?" Vegeta suggested glibly.

Kakarot looked at the young crowd and wondered, "So who is going to address them?"

"You should go first Vegeta. Coming here was your idea," Adrestia pointed out.

"First?" Vegeta questioned.

"If we happen to have any female recruits I will address them separately. However I think the overall pitch should be done by you," Adrestia told him.

Vegeta nodded slightly and turned to the crowd. The other two stepped back to let all the attention focus on the prince. The crowd hushed in anticipation of his words. Most bore expressions of curiosity. A few of the young girls looked at him dreamily despite his scarred face.

"Good morning recruits. I am Sir Vegeta," Vegeta began as he pointed to himself and then to his companions. "That is Sir Kakarot and Dame Adrestia. We are a detachment from the Order of the Celestial Blade here to find recruits to join us."

Murmurs began to weave through the crowd along with gasps of excitement and giddy laughter. The order was very famous and everyone knew that anyone accepted into the ranks gained high status. Several young girls began to swoon at him their heads filled with romance and fairy tales. It was the famous knight prince himself addressing them and that meant a rare opportunity.

"I must remind you that we are a detachment. You will not be joining the main order itself. We will not be fritting away our time at the barracks like the others and going to parties. We will be actively deployed and honing our skills," Vegeta informed them.

Several sighs of disappointed erupted and almost half the crowd left right then and there. Each bickering to themselves as they left. Vegeta could hardly blame them. However he felt it dishonest to lie to them about what they were getting into. He gave the crowd a few moments to settle before continuing.

"After we refit and resupply we will be leaving on a long training mission. I don't know how long we will be gone, but I promise you when we return you will be changed," Vegeta stated.

More disapproving sounds erupted and almost all the crowd left him after that last statement. Apparently going off on some uncertain mission was not appealing. Five young girls remained. Vegeta wasn't sure what to make of them but he would take them if they agreed to continue after that.

"It seems only the girls chose to remain. How disappointing," Kakarot commented.

Adrestia put her arm on Vegeta's shoulder and demanded, "Excuse me Vegeta but I'll take it from here."

"All right but try to be gentle," Vegeta reminded her.

"Whatever do you mean?" Adrestia asked innocently with a sly grin on her face.

"You've been spending too much time with my mother. She is beginning to rub off on you," Vegeta told her, and then he took a few steps back and stood by Kakarot.

"We just need the right sort. I'll find that out," Adrestia replied with a wave of her hand.

Adrestia strode calmly over to the five with her hands behind her back. They were young just barely enlistment age. Some were very pretty and wore outfits that accentuated their beauty. Though none wore dresses and all were wearing appropriate leggings. One young thin girl looked very young and wore simple brown shirt and leggings and a sword at her waist. Her hair was worn in a simple braid and she had a familiar look about her, but Adrestia could not quite place it.

"Form a line," Adrestia ordered the recruits.

They did so very clumsily. Most were trying hard to hide it, but many were stealing glances at the prince behind her. Adrestia merely shook her head. This would not do, it would not do at all. She walked up to the prettiest one. The girl had on make up as if she was going to a ball. Her dark hair was pulled into two innocent looking braids that men loved. She had on a revealing white top that showed her cleavage. Adrestia simply punched him her hard in the stomach with no warning. The girl doubled over in pain.

"Listen up you bitches. All you whores who think you can join us and seduce the prince have another thing coming," Adrestia told them. "This is not some fairy tale where you meet your handsome prince and live happily ever after. This is real life. All female recruits will report to me and not him. You will have to get through me and I don't think you have the stomach for it. All those who don't want to be an actual warrior leave now."

The girls left one by one, disheartened by Adrestia's speech. Even the one she punched picked herself up and glared at Adrestia before making her way off. Only a single recruit remained. It was the youngest looking one with the sword. Adrestia walked right up to her and lifted her chin to look her in the eyes. She appeared to have the right sort of look at least.

"How old are you?" Adrestia inquired, doubting the girl was the right age.

"Sixteen," the girl said with a slight hesitation.

Adrestia punched the girl in the sternum, knocking the wind out of her and repeated, "How old?"

The girl coughed and cried out, "Fourteen."

"You're too young girl. Come back in a few years," Adrestia ordered and reached for the girl's weapon.

The girl was still reeling from the blow and could not stop Adrestia from taking it. She looked it over with a critical eye. It appeared to be a sword of the order. Yet this girl obtained it somehow. Perhaps one was stolen or lost. Either way she could not let the child have it, it didn't belong to her. Lucky for her, Adrestia decided not to press the matter and would let her go with only a warning and confiscate the blade.

"This sword belongs to the order girl. It isn't yours. I'm confiscating it," Adrestia informed her and turned her back.

"No that's mine," the girl cried out and grabbed onto Adrestia's leg like a child.

Adrestia sighed but would not relent, "Let go girl. As I said this is a sword of the order. Therefore it belongs in the order. I will overlook why you have it on your person, but I must take it from you."

"Give it back. Please give it back," the girl begged her, with watery eyes.

"Why is this so important?" Adrestia asked her.

"It was my sister's," the girl blurted out with a broken voice. "She died and it was one of the only things we were given back."

"Who was your sister girl?" Vegeta inquire curiously.

"Lady Nerine, she died at Austurica," the girl admitted.

Adrestia shared a look with the prince. She rolled her eyes toward the little brat as if to get his assessment. The prince just shrugged his shoulders in response. Adrestia sighed, while she really didn't want to recruit someone so young, but she could not turn Nerine's sister away.

"What's your name girl?" Adrestia asked simply.

"Iustitia," the girl answered with a glimmer of hope in her voice.

"Let go of me," Adrestia commanded.

The girl finally released her. She stood slowly with a fearful look on her face. Her eyes locked on the sword as if it were a sacred relic. She looked as if she would break down if it was taken from her for good.

"Isn't she too young?" Kakarot pointed out.

Iustitia held her breath. She didn't know exactly which one would give her the final decision. Though she suspected it was the prince. It was equally likely that either Lady Adrestia or Lord Kakarot could bar her entry.

"I heard she was sixteen," Vegeta remarked giving the girl a slight nod.

"So it seems," Kakarot agreed.

Adrestia returned her sword and informed her, "Congratulations Iustitia you are now my squire."

"Thank you my lady, I shall serve you well," the girl said with bow.

"Is that all? Some inaugural recruitment class we have," Vegeta commented dryly.

"Quality over quantity," Adrestia remarked with a nod to the girl.

Vegeta smiled at the words and agreed, "I suppose you are right."

"Glad to have you along," Kakarot told the girl with cheery grin.

0-0-0

The sun shone warmly on a bright, sunny day in contrast to the dark intentions afoot. It bathed in its gentle rays a luxurious veranda. Exotic fruits, succulent beef, and honeyed wine were served by beautiful servant girls in enticing clothing that barely left any room for imagination. Two young nobles dressed in expensive and casual silks, lounged on comfortable red cushions being doted on by the girls.

Malavai Harkon was a golden haired ladies' man. This was one of his villas they were meeting in. He was above average height for a Saiyan and extremely fit. His charming smile, deep blue eyes and chiseled features often won over both women and lords alike. Few but his companion even remembered his family's ancient enmity towards the royal family. He had gorgeous and shapely servants on either side of him.

His companion was Leto Atreus newly head of House Atreus. His dark hair and eyes was more common to most Saiyans. He was also considered handsome as his companion yet he did not revel in it. He was generally more measured and calculated.

He only had one sultry servant girl attending him. He preferred to keep things simple despite his friend's tendency towards excess. Though having girls attend him in this manner was quite pleasing he had to admit. His friend was not nearly as crazy as people accused him of being. Harkon was just a bit eccentric and a tad on the hedonistic side.

They shared a common bond of being young, rich and from ancient and powerful houses. They were in their mid-twenties they just at the beginning of their reigns as lords. Once rivals, their ancestors formed a loose alliance over the years in reverence to a common goal, the devastation of the house that subjugated them. For years it was just a pipe dream of old men. Now as the heads of their houses it was up to them to either continue the work or let it rest. Providence however finally provided some fortune where there was none for years.

"I hear the prince is heading to the southern city states," Harkon casually mentioned as he took a drink from his wine.

"How foolish," Atreus commented.

"I expected more of a response from you, Lord Atreus," Harkon said.

"I'm still getting used to being called that. As you well know Harkon," Atreus replied.

"I'll admit it is an adjustment. When my grandfather finally passed the title it was quite sudden as well and with it came all those pesky burdens," Harkon admitted.

"Well I was honestly thinking of giving it up. How many years has it been now?" Atreus implored though he already knew the answer.

"Seven generations if we are counting the royal family," Harkon commented.

"A long time to hold a grudge," Atreus reminded him.

"Being subjugated will do that to anyone. Yet now after all this time the prince has provided us an opportunity," Harkon explained.

"He is but a boy who wants to play at war," Atreus remarked with a dismissive wave.

"Perhaps, but you can't deny his actions could be very beneficial to us," Harkon replied.

"How so?" Atreus wondered with a raised brow.

"Well if he should not come back from his little campaign it would cause quite the stir. It may be just the catalyst we need to set everything in motion," Harkon pointed out.

Atreus stroked his shaven chin and agreed, "That is true lords die all the time in wars and fortunately for us he is the only heir at present."

"Quite right, and with him gone the country will be ripe for change," Harkon said with a malicious grin.

"What of the second child? The queen is still pregnant." Atreus reminded.

"If it's a girl we need do nothing. If it's a prince we either kill him or undermine him. All it takes is a little uncertainty over the heir and entire dynasties can fall," Harkon claimed with glee.

"The poor fool has no idea what he has done," Atreus told him.

"Youths are always like that," Harkon remarked with casual disdain.

"True enough. I was once just as narrow minded as he is," Atreus recounted.

"I'll see to the details my friend," Harkon informed him.

"Be sure to be discreet I'd rather not be accused of treason before seeing House Saiya fall," Atreus commented.

Harkon raised his glass in a toast, "To the fall of House Saiya."

Atreus clinked his glass with his comrade. He could not help but smile. Things were finally looking up. His mighty house which once been a house of kings, had for years been forced to grovel after being subjugated by the first King of Saiya. Now his own foolish descendant would lead to the downfall of his house. Every lord was taught from birth that a lord needs a clear line of succession or problems arise. It had been proven time and again throughout history. Now it would be proven again. They would just give history a little nudge in the right direction.


	2. Chapter 2

It was midday on a dusty road heading south. Four warriors rode their horses loaded with gear and weapons. The road cut through the middle of a grassy plain that stretched as far the eye could see. The dirt rose from the dry earth as they rode on. The sun beat down on them causing a layer of sweat and dirt to form on their skin.

Vegeta rode in the lead as he had their passes in his possession. He hated the feeling of grime being on him, but he didn't complain. He supposed that all travelers would be used to such things. If he was ever to be a real warrior a little dirt should not bother him. He couldn't help but grimace as he spit dirt out he had breathed in for the hundredth time.

Kakarot rode next to him, Adrestia and Iustitia rode behind them. They had decided to dress as plain mercenaries looking for work. As such they kept their brigandines and armor pieces inside their packs and the only armor they wore were the hauberks. They had left their finer blue tabards behind as the sigil would give them away. Instead they all donned unassuming dark brown tabards and riding cloaks.

"Is this what mercenaries look like?" Kakarot asked no one in particular.

"I have no idea I never met any," Vegeta responded.

"It does seem a shame to put away our beautiful blue tabards for this drab color," Adrestia commented with a wave of her free hand.

"I agree with Lady Adrestia. This color isn't very flattering," Iustitia said meekly.

Vegeta laughed and pointed out, "Well I prefer the blue ones better too, but the sigils on them are too conspicuous. Plus I'd hate to see them dismantled in any way just to conceal us."

"I suppose you are right," Kakarot shrugged.

"I am more right than wrong on most things," Vegeta remarked with a sly grin.

Adrestia chuckled and teased, "Here I was expecting you to say a prince is always right."

Vegeta scratched his head and asked, "Am I really that predictable?"

Kakarot laughed and agreed, "You definitely are."

The three of them shared a hearty laugh. Only their newest member was silent. She had not yet found her place amongst the group and was a little awkward socially with them. She just smiled meekly along with her lady. It was quite funny and they had been far more welcoming than she originally thought they would be.

Normally squires were expected to be at the beck and call of their knights. They were little more than stewards for some knights. She did have a few chores she did for her lady. For the most part the others treated her as someone who needed training and took time each day to instruct her.

What surprised her most was the prince. All her life she was told of the importance of the power structure. There were commoners, then the nobles and the clergy, then higher nobles and finally the royal family. Iustitia was from a middle ranked house. Her family was important enough to have an estate in the capital, but was still subservient to the other greater houses. All her life her family and tutors imparted the lesson that the royals were so much higher than them. Yet the prince laughed, drank and ate with the others informally.

She had heard about what happened between all on that fateful mission that took her sister's life. It must have profoundly changed them all to have them behave so differently. This prince seemed much different than the one in her sister's letters. She described him as a bratty, lecherous tyrant. While he still had flashes of self-importance, to her he often appeared much closer to Lady Adrestia and Kakarot.

"Ugh the road is so dusty," Kakarot complained as he spit dust out of his mouth.

"Would you prefer a muddy road?" Adrestia asked him.

"I don't know. Why aren't they all just paved like in Vegos?" Kakarot wondered.

Vegeta rubbed his chin with his free hand and explained, "I'm not sure I've never really thought about it. If I had to hazard a guess I'd say that it costs money and that the kingdom can't afford to pave everything."

"Can't you do something about it? You are the prince," Kakarot pointed out.

"First of all this is only my second time ever leaving the capital. Secondly, I have no idea which minister even deals with such things," Vegeta informed the man.

"Wouldn't it be up to the lord of this territory?" Adrestia wondered.

"Actually you are probably right," Vegeta scratched his brow and admitted. "The local lord is supposed to manage the keeps and the roads in his domain. At least I think that sounds right."

"You shave payed more attention to your tutors," Adrestia mocked him.

Vegeta just shrugged, "Not my fault, that by time we went over civics, I was more interested in women and drinking."

"So none of us knows how roads are built?" Kakarot pointed out.

"Yes Kakarot none of knows how roads are built, who is responsible for them, or how they are maintained," Vegeta answered sarcastically.

"All your tutors would be ashamed," Iustitia stated simply, unsure if she overstepped her bounds.

She kept quiet as she was engulfed in an uncertain moment of silence. A chorus of laughter erupted around her. All three of them laughed so hard their faces were turning red. It made Iustitia release a big toothy grin from ear to ear. Slowly but surely she was adapting to being with them.

"Where are we headed anyway?" Kakarot wondered as his laughter finally died down.

"Outside the southern checkpoint between here and the old imperial heartland Tiberia," Vegeta reminded him.

"Why don't we go directly into one of the old imperial cities?" Kakarot asked him.

"Well because we don't know which one is the best to travel to," Vegeta reasoned, "Besides there should be a taverns and inns outside the checkpoint filled with mercenaries heading south."

"I suppose that makes sense," Kakarot agreed.

"Where did you hear that mercenaries are gathering there?" Adrestia questioned.

"I am still a prince, I have my resources," Vegeta huffed.

"Nappa told him," Adrestia deduced to Kakarot as if it was common knowledge.

"That's who I was thinking," Kakarot agreed.

"I… it doesn't matter the source was reliable," the prince told them.

Adrestia chuckled and doubled down, "That just screams Nappa to me."

"No doubt," Kakarot concurred with a smile.

0-0-0

It was a lively evening at a dingy tavern. It every table seemed filled with mercenaries in all types of drabs. Drinks were flowing. Songs were being sung. Tavern wenches and ladies of the night were all entertaining the various guests.

Vegeta entered, freshly cleaned after the day's long trip, with his companions. The women had insisted on freshening up before eating their evening meal and he did not disagree with them. Though Kakarot would eat dirty or clean, Vegeta still preferred to feel clean as he ate his meals.

The prince eyed the place carefully. It was similar to the tavern at Austurica that he visited. He was looking for one man in particular that the inn keeper had told him about. The leader of a band heading south, his name was Turles and apparently he was a tall Saiyan man. Supposedly he resembled Kakarot as he actually thought the man was Turles upon first view.

He found the man in a table near the bar. He was a dark haired man who looked to be about in his mid-twenties. He had on a worn foreign uniform of some kind, though the man was clearly Saiyan or at least he looked like one. It was a red and black tabard with gold trimmings. He wore leather underneath it and no armor from what Vegeta could see. He didn't appear to have a sword on him.

A beautiful, black haired, buxom woman was in his lap. He whispered in her ear as he held his cup in his hands. She laughed at his comments and had a hand on his thigh suggestively. He was shocked at how much he looked like Kakarot. He could see his hands on the woman's shapely thighs. He clearly didn't act like Kakarot.

Vegeta gestured at the man to his companions behind him. Kakarot seemed confused as he studied the man who definitely resembled him. Adrestia merely chuckled and whispered something to her young protégé. Iustitia just looked displeased as she saw the man.

Vegeta closed the distance with the man. He walked confidently. Inwardly he was slightly nervous. He had never had to act before. Right now he needed to hide who he really was. Now he had to achieve what he wanted without pulling rank or revealing who he was. It was going to be tricky. He stopped a few paces from the man.

"Are you Turles?" Vegeta asked the man.

Turles didn't even bother looking at him. That irritated Vegeta. He held his breath slightly hoping the man would not notice. He had to remind himself that he was not dressed as a prince and many would not treat him the same.

"Who's asking?" Turles answered his attention still on the woman in his lap.

"Three former knights and a squire looking for work," Vegeta informed Turles as he crossed his arms.

Turles turned his head to study the group. They didn't seem to belong here exactly. They almost looked the part, almost anyway. Still their clothes and gear appeared to be of high quality. Each of them wore swords on their wastes. The leather looked fine and the stitching of the best money could buy.

One woman looked exceptionally beautiful. The other looked like she was still blossoming; only time would tell. The scarred, one eyed man wore an expensive red silk sash on his head. The other man was taller than the one speaking to him. His face was partially obscured by the light where he was standing but he looked familiar from this distance.

Turles took a sip of wine and asked, "Why should I take you on? You don't look like much."

"What do you mean?" Vegeta wondered with a raised brow.

"Your clothes are brand new. No rips, tears or patches in them," Turles pointed out to them.

"So?" Vegeta replied a little agitated.

Turles waived his mug and pointed out, "It means you just bought them."

"That doesn't seem like a bad thing to me," Vegeta huffed.

Turles merely chuckled, "It means you are either a lord who wants to play lord and brought two whores and his manservant with him. Or worse you are children who grew up on tales of adventure and stole your father's savings to leave."

Adrestia was outraged and declared, "We not a whores!"

"So you say," Turles replied as he glanced at her before gesturing to Iustitia, "Then again this one looks a bit young. You the kind that likes them freshly bled?"

"You pig I should cut you down for that!" Adrestia fumed as she reached for her sword.

The tavern went deathly quiet as she said that. Scores of men audibly got up from their seats and eyed the four. Each one had a hand on a sword, dagger or knife at his waist. Turles just eyed them calmly and continued to drink.

Vegeta and the other three all put their hands on their swords now and took their stances. The situation was getting out of hand. They were vastly outnumbered here. They had really had no idea how to proceed. If a fight break out one or all of them would be severely injured before they could escape.

Turles simply waived his hand and the men sat back down. After a few moments that felt like hours, the tavern was full of laughter and song again. Vegeta was definitely impressed with his control of his men. He relaxed his stance and took his hand off his weapon, followed by the rest of his group.

"All right, I guess not. Still it begs the question, can you fight? I got no room in my company for people who can't," Turles informed them as if their standoff had not occurred.

Vegeta gestured to his group promised, "We three can fight. Our squire is still learning."

Turles took a bit of meat the woman served him and corrected Vegeta, "Servant you mean. No such thing as a squire for a former knight."

Vegeta rubbed his chin and admitted, "I suppose you are right. Our apprentice is still learning."

"Apprentice, you really crack me up," Turles laughed heartily, "All right, so tell you what, one of you lot fights well enough and I'll let you in."

Kakarot stepped into the light and questioned, "Which one?"

Turles looked stunned and remarked, "Well I'll be. They say everyone has a twin in the world. I always thought it was just a stupid thing people said. Guess I was wrong."

"You didn't answer him," Vegeta reminded Turles as he crossed his arms again.

Turles just shrugged, "Doesn't matter, if one of you can fight well enough and it prove that your story is genuine."

"When should we do this?" Kakarot implored, clenching his fists and readying his stance.

"Not now you fool. I already have a busy night planned," Turles informed him as he winked at his lady, "Tomorrow at noon in front this tavern."

"We'll be there," Vegeta agreed with a serious look.

0-0-0

Noon turned out to be a cloudy. No rain in sight, just a nice cool break from the hot summer sun. The wind blew slightly kicking up a little dust in front of the tavern. Turles was already waiting along with a crowd of men and women behind him. Some had drinks in their hands; others were just casually eating and smoking. Apparently this was just another celebration for them.

Vegeta and his band stood opposite them, just they four of them. They did not share the same merry spirit as the rest of the crowd. There had been a heated debate the night before but it was finally agreed that Vegeta would fight Turles or whoever he chose today. Adrestia very much wanted to shut him up, but Vegeta pointed out there was no guarantee it would be him fighting. She relented on that point.

"How are we going to do this?" Vegeta asked in a near shout to get Turles' attention.

"Let's make this interesting. No weapons, no armor, no shirts, just a good old fashioned bare knuckle fight," Turles stated to the cheer of the crowd behind him.

"Agreed," Vegeta replied and began taking his tabard off to remove his armor.

"Going to be fighting yourself?" Turles inquired.

Vegeta continued to remove his layers and responded, "Aren't you?"

"That would hardly be a test. I got the perfect man for the job though," Turles assured him, "Jenounes!"

"Jenounes! Jenounes! Jenounes!" the chant began in the crowd.

Apparently the man was quite popular. Vegeta removed the last of his garments and armor in a pile. After a moment of thought he removed his sash. He rarely ever did so, but in a fight his opponent would be able to pull on it. Contrary to popular belief he still had an eye. He simply wore the sash for his own vanity and to avoid stares. He blinked the unseeing white orb a few times.

He handed the sash to Adrestia. It could not be left in the dirt and needed to be kept clean. The last thing he needed was risk an infected eye. Adrestia nodded confidently to him with a steely expression.

Vegeta turned around to see a red haired giant of a man beside Turles. He had steely, blue eyes, freckles, a close cropped soldier's haircut, and a square jaw. He looked like a giant made flesh. He was clearly a foreigner, compared to the darker haired Saiyans of the land. Scars crisscrossed his heavily muscled frame and his hands looked like they could crush a skull easily.

"This is Jenounes. He is from an island so far north that even the old empire never reached it called Caledonia. I've never been there but he's quite the fighter," Turles told him as he gestured to giant.

"All I have to is beat him?" Vegeta asked for clarification.

Turles just shrugged, "You can try. Just be sure to give us a good show."

Turles pat the giant on the shoulder and whispered something to him before joining the rest of his men. The crowd cheered as the two men took their stances. Vegeta was apprehensive but tried not to show it. He had not fought someone without just his fists in a while. Also now he would not be able to see half the blows coming for his face until they struck him. Still no man was unbeatable. Even a giant could be felled.

Vegeta closed the distance and stuck released a straight punch with his left hand aiming for his body. It was his offhand but he could not see out of his right eye. His fist struck the man's heavily muscled abdominals. He didn't seem to even flinch or give an inch. Before Vegeta could retreat he felt a hammer strike the right side of his face.

Vegeta stumbled back a few paces. The man's strength was inhuman. He had never been hit that hard in his life. Even Nappa who seemed about the man's size never had that sort of power. He glared at the man who just had a calm face and kept his giant fists up.

Determined not to give in, Vegeta shook the stars from his vision. He closed the gap again and this time unleashed a combination. Two punches in quick succession, a left to the body and right to the face. Even though he could not accurately guide his right hand, he felt it strike the man's lips. He reveled in the satisfying smack he heard from contact.

"Ooh," he heard the crowd say around them.

Then he felt two more crushing blows on him. He wasn't sure where they came from they were so fast. He knew one struck his left eye and the other his nose. He fell to the ground hard this time. The smell of dirt and blood filled his nostrils. The crowd cheered around him and the Jenounes chant began anew.

Vegeta didn't understand it. He had never been bested so badly before. Then a realization hit him. Had his teachers been going easy on him? Had they been allowing him to win? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It would have been stupid after all to strike a prince with any real force.

He felt humbled. So this was what it was really like to fight a man with your fists. The man had no idea who Vegeta was so he would pull no punches. It was not over though. He could still fight. At least he thought so.

He slowly, but and painfully, pulled himself up. His muscles seemed to protest and his head seemed to light and faint. He was not sure if it was the blood loss or the punches. He could not hear the crowd now. Though he was not sure if that was because they were silent or it he had been hit too hard.

He gave the man his best unflinching stare, spat out the dirt and blood in his mouth, and put his fists up once more. This time the man clearly wore a shocked expression. Apparently he had thought Vegeta would stay down. No such luck. He was determined to hit the man at least a few more times.

Vegeta closed the gap and hit the giant again with a right cross. This time he caught him in the chin. He could feel the hard bone on his knuckles. This time he also felt the man's head move back. A bloody smile crossed Vegeta's features.

At least he had hurt the giant. Those were his last thoughts before all he felt was more pain then blackness. After what seemed like hours he could smell dirt and blood again. His mouth tasted like sand.

0-0-0

Vegeta sat at the tavern drinking some ale and licking his wounds with his comrades. It even hurt to chew so he chewed his meat slowly tonight. Apparently real fist fights leave you in such a state. Even though the alcohol burned the cuts inside his mouth, it numbed him and made the pain go away.

He heard footsteps walk up to his table and someone sit across from him. He looked up to see Turles' smiling face. He really hoped he was not here to mock him. He was in no mood for such a thing despite the alcohol. Matter of fact he might just snap if Turles said anything like that.

"You did better than I thought you would," Turles told him and handed him a fresh mug.

"I still lost," Vegeta reminded him.

"I never actually said you had to win," Turles commented. "Honestly I thought you were going to stay down as soon as he hit you. Jenounes hits like a hammer."

"So I've noticed," Vegeta agreed dryly.

"Well you've got guts that's good enough for me. All four of you are hired if you are still interested," Turles informed him.

"Just like that?" Vegeta asked him.

"Just like that," Turles repeated.

"When are we leaving?" Vegeta inquired.

"We've got a contract in Narbo. We leave tomorrow morning. Be ready," Turles declared. "Never did get your name."

"Vegeta," He said simply.

"You're one tough bastard Vegeta. Welcome to my company," Turles replied with a smile.

0-0-0

The four companions waited in the brisk summer morn. The sun had yet to rise fully over the horizon. They had already settled their bill at the inn and packed up. Now they just awaited the rendezvous with Turles on the edge of town.

Vegeta sat atop his horse still a little light headed this morning. His right eye was still swollen and his nose pained him. Apparently he had broken it in the fight. Adrestia had to set it back straight for him. He wondered self-consciously if it would heal straight.

Adrestia and Iustitia rode side by side. The young squire was quite devoted to her and rarely left her side. Vegeta hardly blamed her. It must be difficult to be two women in this kind of environment. He did note however that Iustitia had begun wearing her hair in single braid as Adrestia often did. He smiled a bit even though it hurt to smile at the moment. He bet she thought he would not notice.

Kakarot had an excited look on his face. The fool was probably happy they were finally heading to a new land. Vegeta was a little excited as well, though he'd never admit it. He often wondered if the Tiberia was anything like the old texts said.

Turles rode before them with two other men. One was a familiar armored giant he knew too well, Jenounes. His fluted steel armor pieces were blood red to match his hair. The other was large blonde man with blue eyes who he did not know. Well he was large compared to normal sized men. Compared to Jenounes however, he seemed small. His armor pieces were blue steel. They were an intimidating pair to say the least. He could see why Turles rode with them.

"Good morning all," Turles greeted.

"Morning," Vegeta answered.

"Since you are all new to the mercenary life, I'll explain a few things. First of all I am the Captain and I am in charge. I give the orders and you do it. I know you lords and ladies are used to giving orders but don't forget you work for me," Turles informed them.

"No problem," Vegeta told him before any protest could form.

"I will recognize that you are used to being together. So you will form your own team with Vegeta as your leader," Turles compromised.

"That is acceptable," Adrestia remarked.

Adrestia was surprised Turles was so reasonable. She would not want to be parted from her companions especially Iustitia. She was far too young to be left with such men alone. Even if they were all separated, she would have insisted that they be together. She'd cut the hand off any many who ever tried to touch the girl.

This was better however. While she didn't exactly like the idea of serving with Jenounes, she would endure the man. However he didn't appear to have any malice or cruelty on his face specifically. Even as he beat Vegeta to the ground, she knew he could have beaten him far worse than he did. Thinking back on it, he never kicked Vegeta when he was down or hit him anymore than was necessary to knock him down.

Still it was hard for her watch the man beat Vegeta bloody like that. She had clenched her fists so hard in that moment she thought her hands would bleed. She was likely not alone in that. She remembered Kakarot was also angry seeing his friend like that. If it had gone on for one second longer she would have drawn her sword on Jenounes, mission or no mission.

"One caveat however. You only have four currently as such you need more. So I am sending two of my best to go with you. Jenounes you are already familiar with," Turles informed them, then pointed at the large golden man. "This is Biorr. He is from a frozen land in the far north. I'll be honest I'm not that familiar with it, but he is a great fighter."

"Welcome," Kakarot greeted with a smile.

"Well I'm off to rejoin the rest of the company. Join the group as you see us on the road," Turles ordered them.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Iustitia paced around nervously this morning. They found a nice open spot on the beach to practice. The sun dipped over the waves fulling the area with a beautiful golden aura. The air smelled of salt and primal life that made Iustitia's heart fill with jovial warmth.

She was still getting used to their morning ritual training. Her muscles ached in protest and she limped along all the while she noticed the others moved with casual grace. A yawn escaped her lips. She could not help it. In her former life only the servants were ever up at dawn. Yet this was the life she had chosen to follow in her sister's footsteps.

Lady Adrestia approached her. Her long, raven braid swung in the breeze slightly. Her brown training garb could do little to hide the statuesque curves beneath. Iustitia could not help but be filled with awe. Her lady always had such an effortless beauty that she looked like she had been painted. Especially now, as the sun rose behind her and the waves crashed along the shore.

Iustitia hoped that one day she would be half as beautiful as Lady Adrestia. She often wondered how her sister was so close to her. It would be far easier to hate or be jealous of her. Yet despite their beginning she had always been so kind and thoughtful to her. It reminded her of the time she spent Nerine when they were younger. It was seemed so long ago and yet it was less than a half a decade ago.

"How do you like the view?" Adrestia asked her and pointed to the shoreline.

"It's beautiful my lady," Iustitia admitted with a grin.

"Isn't it? I would have visited Tiberia much sooner had I known places like this existed," Adrestia commented.

"What sorts of training are we doing this morning?" Iustitia asked hoping it was not another long run.

"Today we are sparring," Adrestia informed her and handed Iustitia a wooden training blade three times heavier than her battle issue one.

"I see," Iustitia grunted as she slightly struggled with the heavier weapon.

Adrestia laughed and reassured her, "You'll get used to it soon enough."

Just then the crimson haired giant walked up to the pair. He wore leather clothing with foreign designs on them she could not place. In his hands was a massive two handed training sword. He and the blonde giant had joined them for training since they had been assigned to their team. Iustitia was still not entirely comfortable with them. She had watched this man beat her prince brutally. It unnerved her a little just to be around him.

"I would like to train with the girl," Jenounes half stated and half asked Adrestia.

Adrestia turned and stared him down with an intense, stony expression, "Why should you?"

"We will all fight soon enough. She needs to learn how to fight bigger and strong opponents that will try to overpower her," Jenounes reasoned.

"You do have a point," Adrestia relented with an uncertain tone.

"You cannot be serious," Iustitia protested.

"He is right, Iustitia," Adrestia pointed out. "Don't worry. I'll be right over there with Vegeta keeping an eye on you the whole time."

Iustitia was nervous as Adrestia walked over to chat with the prince. The giant loomed over her. He smiled warmly at her. His ruddy stubble glimmered with a slight sweat in the sunlight. She looked into his blue eyes and did not notice any hint of malice.

"Are you ready?" Jenounes asked her, as he got into his stance.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Iustitia answered and she raised her blade.

Jenounes swung his giant blade wide, and horizontally. Iustitia blocked his blow with the technique that she learned from her lady. It rang out with a boom as it stuck her blunt sword. Pain radiated down her arms as the sheer force of the blow reverberated within her. She badly wanted to just drop her training sword and call it a day but she would not.

"Not a bad block, but remember some swings are better dodged than blocked," Jenounes commented.

Then the crimson giant raised his blade above his head took a few menacing steps towards her. Iustitia regained her composure and readied her stance one more. Jenounes struck a devastating blow straight downwards towards her. Iustitia was unsure if she could block another as her arms still protested from the last blow. Instead she leapt backwards a few paces.

The blow thundered into the ground spraying sand everywhere. Iustitia was sure her skull would have been split open with the force of the blow. Yet somehow she could tell he was going easy on her. Though his blows were hard they were slow. Perhaps he was mocking her. Perhaps this man did not think a girl to be a worthy opponent. It made her blood boil. Girl or not she was still a noble saiyan, descended from one of the great warrior houses of Saiya.

"Do you take me for a fool? You are going easy on me!" Iustitia accused him.

Jenounes merely grinned and replied, "Of course I am we are only training. You would not learn anything if you only got hurt."

"And what is it you are trying to teach me?" Iustitia spat out venomously.

Jenounes put his sword down and explained, "You are small. All men big and small will try to overpower you on the battlefield. I'm trying to teach you some of their more obvious moves so you will be ready. Men get sloppy when they think they have a huge advantage."

"I see," Iustitia called out; a little embarrassed she did not see something so obvious. "Thank you for taking the time to show me."

"No problem, we are comrades now are we not? It's what battle brothers do," Jenounes shrugged.

"But I am girl," Iustitia pointed out.

"Battle sister then," Jenounes corrected with a grin.

"You really think I can get better at this?" Iustitia wondered.

"Of course you can everyone benefits from training. You are still new to this I have heard. But stick with it and you'll be a master in no time," Jenounes told her with confidence.

"Will I ever be like that?" Iustitia asked him and pointed behind him.

He turned to look and saw Adrestia as she sparred with Vegeta. Her blade clashed with his. She moved gracefully in the sand blow for blow. Every step seemed calculated and choreographed down to the dodges and combos she released. Adrestia looked akin to a heavenly dancer hitting all the right moves with perfectly time rhythm. A resplendent smile graced her features as she switched hands and changed her stance mid flow without breaking her stride.

"Well… I must admit," Jenounes called out still staring at Adrestia. "Some people are just blessed by the gods."

0-0-0

Vegeta sat with his team inside a quaint, seaside tavern. It was a lovely evening in the place, with a festive atmosphere. The sweet smell of the sea permeated the place mixing its fragrance with the smell of alcohol and seafood. The aroma was unique to team that sat at a table that overlooked the moonlit sea.

This was a different experience for most of them except the two foreign warriors. The others had never seen the sea before. The smell of spices wafted through the air as the tavern cooked its bounty for the men. They were all smiles tonight. There was nothing quite like good food and drink after a long journey.

For once all the Saiyans could not wait to taste the food here. It all smelled so good. Apparently Narbo traded with eastern nations far away for these rather unique spices. It was a shame they were not more common in the home country.

Turles was supposed to be in later to brief them all on their assignment. It annoyed Vegeta that he wasn't there to receive the briefing from the military. He was curious about how the military affairs of a foreign nation worked. Then again Bardock often just showed up with assignments out of the blue. Turles was not Bardock however much he resembled him and Kakarot.

Jenounes and Biorr had assumed them all that Turles was a good captain. He never took jobs that he was unwilling to lead himself. No one was ever sent on needless deaths. Apparently Turles had a contact with the Narbian military, which was why they here on a major campaign earning real money and not begging to work for some minor lord or other.

Money didn't really matter to the knights as they were still secretly receiving a stipend from their own order. They would want for naught. However they were all unsure what to do with their increased wages from this year. They would have to spend it in order to keep up their ruse. Or it would raise suspicions or at the very least questions.

"How's your nose?" Jenounes asked Vegeta.

"Still a little sore, though not nearly as painful as that first day," Vegeta admitted honestly.

"You fight OK. Someone tried to teach you how to fight with your fists but they never struck you," Jenounes stated rather than asked.

"How could you tell?" Vegeta wondered.

"Your stance and movements were good, but as soon you got hit for real you were not sure what to do. That means that you were either a rich man's son or some high noble whose teachers weren't really allowed to strike him. Unlike swordplay you cannot learn how to fight with your fists without really being hit," Jenounes remarked.

The rest of them were awkwardly quiet. They had danced around the subject of Vegeta's beating on the way day. No one really wanted to bring it. The prince was a sore loser before. Though he was different now, it could not have been easy to be defeated like that.

"Could you fight me sometime?" Kakarot asked him.

"Of course you only get better at fighting by fighting," Jenounes told them all sagely. "Anyone who wants to learn I will teach."

Just then several dark haired tavern girls brought them their food. The Saiyans had let the other two men order as they had more experience with the food on the coast. It smelled amazing as fresh red fish and whole red shelled creatures were brought before them. Vegeta was a little confused as one of the shelled creatures was brought in front of him. The scent made his mouth water but he was unsure how to eat the clawed creature.

"Like this," Biorr told them all and cracked open a claw. "Then you dip it in butter and spray a little lemon on it."

The Saiyans all copied the man. At first they at it tentatively as none had ever seen a creature like this before. A heavenly taste flooded their taste buds with the mixing of flavors. The creatures might have looked strange but they sure tasted good.

The mood lightened as they all devoured more of the tasty creatures and drank ale. Kakarot was in heaven at all the delicious new food he was brought. Biorr and Jenounes were playing a drinking game with a coin and a spare cup. Adrestia and Iustitia were singing beautiful Saiyan war songs that sounded like soothing ballads. Turles walked in and tavern quieted down a bit to hear him speak.

"Listen up you sons of whores!" Turles shouted with a grin on his face and waited for their full attention.

"He called your mom a whore," Iustitia laughed and pointed at Vegeta, clearly drunk.

Adrestia put her finger to Iustitia's lips and gently told her, "Calm down for a bit."

"Of course my lady," the girl responded in a slightly slurred speech.

"Tomorrow we leave here on the ship _Titan_ to raid the Port of Martea. We will be part of a fleet that will set the ships in her harbor aflame and raid the nearby buildings," Bardock explained. "Stay in your teams and try not to get separated. Any man not on the ship at launch will be left at port with no pay for the month. Any man left behind in Martea will likely be hunted down and killed. This is a supposed to be a quick raid meant to antagonize Martea and cripple their navy, not a pitched fight. That's all you lazy bastards; I'll see you in the morning."

Adrestia took her finger off Iustitia's mouth. The girl giggled and began humming a light, happy tune. She would have to watch the girl tonight. No doubt some man would think the girl was easy prey just because she had a few drinks. Adrestia would keep an eye on her.

"Surprised you weren't offended by his words," Vegeta teased her.

"Why? Sons of whores doesn't apply to me. It only addresses you lot," Adrestia quipped with a chuckle.

"It's just how he is. You get used to it," Biorr told them.

"I've never been on a ship before," Kakarot mentioned.

"Really, well just do what we do," Biorr informed them as he gestured to himself and Jenounes. "My people are famous sea farers. Sea raids are part of our blood."

"We'll be counting on you," Vegeta admitted.

"Just try not to puke on my boots," Biorr said with an impish grin.

"Why would we puke?" Kakarot wondered.

"Oh you'll see tomorrow," Jenounes remarked with a wry smile.

0-0-0

Vegeta had his face hovering over a bucket as he emptied more bile into it. He heard other sounds of retching around him. His stomach was in knots. He was amazed he still had anything to cough up other than water. He had never actually been on a boat in the long term outside of lakes and rivers. Apparently riding on the sea and in waves was a lot different.

This cabin was set aside for their team. It was large enough to house them all and their gear. Instead of beds or bunks however it was lined with hammocks suspended above the ground. It was lit by a few lanterns that hung on the walls. They also had one table and a few chairs if they needed it.

Vegeta glanced up to see Biorr and Jenounes sitting comfortably in chairs as they played cards on the wooden table nearby. He was jealous of their relative comfort as he and the other knights were not. Jenounes met his eyes and tried not to smile, but he could detect a hint of one on the corner of the giant's mouth. Traveling by sea was far different than he imagined.

This cabin was set aside for their team. It was large enough to house them all and their gear. Instead of beds or bunks however it was lined with hammocks suspended above the ground. It was lit by a few lanterns that hung on the walls. They also had one table and a few chairs if they needed it.

It was decided that the women would also sleep in hammocks near the rest of them. No telling what the rest of the crew or even the other mercenaries would do the sleeping women given the chance. They were still new to the mercenary company and were unsure who they could trust and who they could not. To give them a little privacy they put up tarp in the back of the cabin that allowed the women to change in comfort before bed.

Hammocks were actually surprisingly comfortable and utilitarian. Vegeta never though sleeping in the air on ropes essentially would allow be that way. He was wrong. They seemed extremely efficient and only took up a limited amount of space. He would have to look into adding it to the standard kit once he was able to. They would not be always able to suspend themselves, so but it would be quite useful for sleeping outdoors when they could.

"It gets easier. You'll be fine once you get your sea legs," Biorr commented to no one in particular.

"How long does that take?" Kakarot wondered.

"It varies from person to person. No shame in losing your lunch though. I did as a boy when my father first took me on a longboat," Biorr remarked.

"You've been enduring this since you were a child?" Vegeta asked, in a slightly jealous tone.

Biorr took a swig of ale and responded, "Not much choice up north where I am from. Farming alone doesn't provide enough food like it does down here. So we take to the sea to make up for it."

A knock sounded at the door. It must have been Turles. For the most part the other mercenaries were not very social. Plus given the fact that they were new additions it made sense to Vegeta that he would check up on them. He contemplated getting up to answer but did not want to wander to far from the bucket just in case. He merely nodded to Jenounes in response.

"Come in," Jenounes called out.

The door creaked open with a jovial Turles. He still appeared his traveling clothes and not in any armor. He had a roasted turkey leg in one hand and a cup of ale in the other. He smiled as he surveyed the scene.

"How are we doing here?" He asked anyone and took a bite of his meat.

"Still emptying our stomachs," Adrestia informed him.

Turles pulled up a chair to the table and chuckled, "Well it takes time. Try not to eat any heavy meals. Once we begin the attack we might have to fight ship to ship you never know. It's not exactly easy to fight and throw up at the same time."

"I'll keep that in mind," Vegeta replied curtly.

"The plan is to attack at first light before morning watch," Turles informed them. "However once things are in motion be prepared for anything. We are only one part of a larger force. Big battles like this can get chaotic so just stick together."

"How long have you been a mercenary?" Vegeta asked him with genuine curiosity.

"Since I was a boy, I grew up in the life," Turles claimed with a smile. "And there is nothing else I'd rather be doing."

"There are other ways to make money," Adrestia commented as she leaned against the wall.

"Maybe for you educated sorts. Me I'm lucky enough to know how to read and write," Turles remarked. "You have to once you want to lead. A smart man gets contracts in writing. It's more reliable when asking for your money that way."

"Is money all there is?" Iustitia wondered.

Turles merely laughed, it cause the other veterans to laugh with him, "You lot haven't spent much time with common people have you?"

Vegeta was slightly offended and stated, "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Turles just waived his drink and replied, "You wouldn't. Ok I shall educate you on the common life. A man typically does whatever job his father does. I'm sure it's easier that way since he already has some sort of profession usually even if it isn't an honest one."

"I've heard of that before," Vegeta recounted.

"The sons usually get very little say in the matter. However commoners typically have several children. So they can plow the fields, work the mines, fish the sea or whatever the father does for a living. However sooner or later the man dies and leaves everything to his firstborn," Turles pointed out.

"That's not so different from us," Adrestia remarked.

"Maybe so but some of us have bastard brothers we don't get along with. Some of us never had fathers. Some just don't feel like sowing fields or working forges just because daddy did it," Turles commented dryly.

"Damn right," Jenounes agreed simply.

Vegeta was curious about this. He had never really given any thoughts to what commoners actually wanted before. Previously he always thought they should be happy with their lot in life. Some men were born to be kings others to be cobblers. It was just how the world worked.

After Austurica however, he began to see things differently. He didn't want to take his predestined role in the world. **Why should they be any different?** He wondered. Kakarot was right before, he never really talked to the common people previously.

A part of him thought it did not seem practical to let them all do what they wanted in life. Another voice within him made him realize their plight was no so different than his own. He wanted to better himself and it seemed only natural that they would as well.

"I've never considered that," Vegeta admitted.

"Worry not Vegeta it's not very complicated," Turles told him and pointed at himself, "Me, I was born for fighting. Fighting, drinking and fucking make my life worth living. I don't care if I never settle down or leave bastards everywhere. I'm just gonna keep doing all three until I can't do it anymore or I die in battle."

Biorr laughed heartily and agreed, "That's the life for me!"

"You make more sense than I first thought," Vegeta conceded.

Turles raised his cup once more and boasted, "Don't worry stick with us and we'll show you a life worth living. Most of those commoners you spoke of never venture farther than a day's ride from home. It's laughable. Mercenary life is definitely the way to go. You fight all the time, drink spirits from all over the world, and fuck every flavor of woman this world has to offer."

"Some of us are not interested in women," Adrestia said with arms crossed defiantly.

Turles eyed the woman by the wall. Gods she was beautiful. He had rarely ever been with a woman like her. She didn't appear to be sleeping with any of the men on Vegeta's team. That meant she was fair game. The other one was a looked a bit young for him. He preferred women a little riper with a few more curves.

"My apologies ladies," Turles relented. "I have no idea what the pool of men is like for you. However I can assure you it's a bounty."  
"Keep in mind that real ladies are uninterested in quantity," Adrestia huffed.

"Damn, and here I was going to invite you to my private cabin," Turles said with a wink.

"Pass," Adrestia answered coldly and looked away from him.

0-0-0

Turles stood on the deck on the warship. He was clad in his battle armor now. Each piece was of a different style and blacksmith that he had acquired over the years. Some pieces like his cuirass he bought others he simply took off his dead enemies. Dead men don't need armor. Much like Jenounes, he had taken to staining his armor from his gorget down to his greaves bloody red color. It gave him a frightening and hellish appearance to his enemies. He knew firsthand a frightened enemy was more easily defeated.

He was armed with a rather plain looking shield and an arming sword. The shield was rather cheap, made of hard wood and ringed with iron. Still, he knew first hand such things were effective. It was unadorned. Nobles may like to paint theirs and pretend to be lions or dragons but he had no such illusions. All he need was a functional shield to block arrows and enemy blows.

His sword was bit finer. It was well made one handed sword with a polished bronze cross guard and a leather handle. He took it off a well-dressed noble he killed in a campaign a few seasons back. He could not quite remember which one, but it hardly mattered. What did matter was the sword was far too well made to waste leaving.

They moved on the edges of the formation as part of the fleet. They were almost at the port now. The night time ocean was always dark and bleak. Strangely enough the darkness was comforting. It was lights and fires in the abyss from other vessels that were potential threats.

This night was different however. He could see the lights of the other ships in the fleet. It might not be largest naval battle in history, but it all paid the same to a mercenary like him. He watched as the Narbian marines prepared their siege engine. He was quite glad to be on this side of the siege. Engines could be hellish nightmares for a city under siege.

In the lamplight he saw his men getting ready as well. The looked on with ghoulish faces at the impending battle. They had done this all before. With a little luck everyone would come back from the raid. Still you never know, death lurked around every corner for a sellsword.

As his view shifted he spied the lord's team. He had to admit he was rather impressed with the look of them. Now that they were in full battle armor they looked every bit as the former knights they claimed to be. It honestly stood out to him as his own men's armor looked rather plain in comparison. Whoever provided their gear was a master armorer and blacksmith.

Curiously though he spied no crests on their tabards, usually knights still at least bore the crest of their family. It was what distinguished them from common foot soldiers. Not just their fine armor and weapons but their blue blood. Turles had seen other lords and bastards proudly wear the sigil of their houses, kingdoms, or military orders, even those forcefully exiled. He wasn't quite sure why these ones did not.

This would be the first real test for their little team. Three of them he was sure had seen some sort of action before. You don't get the scars they had from reading books all day. The youngest he was not sure about. She looked much shakier compared to the others.

A sound began to echo in the night. The beating rhythm of drums from every ship sounded forth in a fearsome combination. His own heart began to dance in his chest. A smile graced his features. It was time. The attack would begin soon.

As each echo picked up tempo so did his own pulse. In such times he knew why his primitive ancestors used such things. They worked. They got men's blood up. When a man's blood is up he is capable of anything.

He felt rather than saw the ship began to halt. There was a bustle of activity among the Narbian sailors. They were taking down the sails of whatever they do to make the ship stop. Turles was no sailor but recognized the activity even if he didn't fully understand. They have obviously reached the range of the siege engine.

Turles drew his sword and commanded, "All right you lazy bastards, time to earn your pay!"

0-0-0

A loud crash shook Iustitia. She knew it should not bother her but it did. She was not sure why exactly. The foreign soldiers spoke chatted amongst themselves and laughed as they reloaded it. Every shot they fired made her jump.

On the horizon she could make out a great distant blaze. It was the greatest fire she had even seen covering the docks, ships and buildings by the water. Hundreds of fiery comets flew from the sea every few minutes it took them men to load the engines to assault the port. From this far out she could neither hear nor smell the fire. Still inside it she knew were some people being devoured by the flames. Ships that were in the harbor were also on fire.

This was all part of the plan but she was unsure of it all. Her sword shook in her hands. **My sister's sword** , she reminded herself. She wondered if Nerine ever felt this way. Feeling the leather grip in her hand gave her renewed confidence.

An armored hand pat her shoulder and she turned to see the grinning face of Jenounes beside her. He was clad in his ruby red armor. He was actually much nicer than she originally thought he was. His savage beating of her prince aside, the man was never excessively violent. He never tried to take advantage of her the way her mother and Lady Adrestia warned men would try to do.

He carried a giant greatsword that her lady told her was used by infantrymen to fell horses in battle. It was much larger than her. She suspected that average man could not even lift it. He used it with ease however.

"It will be all right. Just stay close to me or Adrestia," Jenounes reassured her with a nod.

"Why have you been so nice to me?" Iustitia asked him finally.

Jenounes just shrugged and revealed, "You remind me of my little sister."

"I do?" She wondered that the man had a sister.

He ruffled her and laughed, "Of course she tries to hide when she is scared too. It's ok to admit you are afraid."

"You don't seem afraid," Iustitia commented.

"That's because I've done this more times than I can remember. You first attack is always scary," He informed her.

"How long will this go on?" She queried.

Jenounes answered simply, "The bombardment will continue until they run out of ammunition. Then we will start the ground attack."

"The ground assault…" Iustitia repeated and trailed off.

Sensing she was scared, Jenounes flashed her a grin and reassured her, "Just keep your shield up and remember what I told you about fighting. The bigger men will ty to use their size against you, but a man is just a weak in his legs as he is his head or his chest."

"You're a lot cleverer than I thought you were," She admitted.

Jenounes laughed and replied, "I'll take that as a compliment little lady."

0-0-0

Vegeta eyed the crimson armored giant in the black tabard getting chummy with Iustitia. It seemed odd to him that the two had grown close. Or that Adrestia had even let them. The girl was in her charge after all. He stood with Kakarot and Adrestia on the railing out of earshot of the two.

"I'm surprised you let them carry on like that," Vegeta commented gesturing at the duo.

Adrestia looked over and admitted, "I still keep an eye on him. However it seems so far he is trustworthy."

"I don't see what the big deal is. It's ok if they are friends right?" Kakarot wondered.

"We just have to make sure he doesn't do anything inappropriate with her, she is still a girl," Vegeta reminded him.

Kakarot finally caught on and remarked, "Yea I don't think he is that kind of guy. He never looks at her the way men look at you Adrestia."

"Beauty is a curse sometimes," Adrestia said dryly.

The constant loud bangs finally ceased. Vegeta looked over to see the Narbian soldiers discussing something with one another. It had to guess it was that they were finally out of ammunition. The ground assault should begin soon.

A Narbian in a slightly finer red and gold uniform walked up to Turles. They began conversing in Tiberian. It was too bad the language was foreign to him. He didn't know what they were saying. He did see the man point out into the water.

Vegeta followed his line of sight. There was something heading towards them at great speed. Another ship he guessed. From the man's frantic tone he guessed it was not a friendly one. He had never experienced a naval battle before and only read about them. It seemed insane to him to even try to fight ship to ship at night.

Would they ram us? Conventional wisdom held since ancient times that you ram the center of the ship with the point of your bow. At least that is what his instructors always told him. However those were ideal conditions and he knew firsthand that combat was never in ideal conditions.

"This could be trouble," Vegeta informed his comrades and pointed to the approaching vessel.

"A night attack is bad enough, but on water? That's just crazy," Adrestia commented.

"Everyone stick together and don't lose track of each other," Vegeta reminded them. "With any luck it will miss us and hit someone else. If it does strike us, prepare for some messy fighting."

"It can't be any worse than Austurica," Kakarot implied.

"It can always be worse," Adrestia told him.

The group exchanged looks and walked closer to the others. A few moments later Turles appeared in the center of the deck to address all his mercenaries. He drew his sword and banged it on his shield to get the attention of his men.

"Right then, looks like things are about to get interesting. A ship is headed right for us. Looks like you lot get to bloody your blades before we reach land," Turles informed them all to the laughs of his veterans. "Prepare for ship to ship combat!"

 


	4. Chapter 4

Vegeta grinned as he donned his barbute with the rest of his squad. It was made of polished steel and had no plume. He actually acquired them secretly from the stock of the royal guards. Austurica had taught him the necessity of helmets. He would no longer let vanity stand in the way of protection.

While the metal did not cover as much as the close helms their own order issued, it was better suited for long term combat. By testing out different helms before they left, they found that the close helm restricted breathing and was better suited for mounted combat or at best short bursts of ground combat. The barbute was more utilitarian. It was based on the design of the old imperial soldiers and provided excellent line of sight and had no restriction on breathing. Additionally he chose ones without plumes so as not to give away their origin.

He picked up the round, wooden shield Turles provided. It appeared plan and cheap, but as long as it did its job that was all that was important. He was surprised it had no sigil on it. Perhaps these mercenaries did not appreciate the importance of such things.

"I'm glad my stomach has finally settled," Adrestia commented.

"No doubt, I'd hate to leave anything on the deck," Kakarot agreed with a toothy grin.

"What do you think ship to ship combat will be like?" Adrestia wondered.

"I have no idea, it's not like I've been on the sea before either," Vegeta reminded them.

"No problem," Biorr replied. "Just as do as the same as Jenounes and I. It's why we are here after all."

Vegeta eyed Biorr as he lifted his large bearded axe. He could barely see it in the torchlight, but he had inspected it before in the cabin. It had a foreign design on the blade he was unfamiliar with. Biorr told him it was the traditional design of his people in the north. He was impressed with the craftsmanship especially the roaring bear engraved on the blade. He was curious to see what the thing was like to wield in battle.

Vegeta heard a strange sound, that seemed familiar yet he could not quite place. A small clunk could be made out in the darkness as something struck the deck near the opposite rail. Then he heard the noise again in the air. He was about to use a torch to investigate what it was, when he suddenly remembered what made the sound.

Vegeta raised his shield above his head and called out, "Shields!"

Vegeta's team put their shields over their heads instantly. It was just in time as loud clunks could be felt on them. Arrows rained down on them irregularly in the dark. Sloppy, very sloppy, Vegeta thought silently as he heard a few more strike near him. They would have been in real trouble in a proper volley. In such an irregular pattern it was still a threat, but not nearly as much had their fire been massed.

The prince smirked and nodded to Kakarot and Adrestia who had similar looks on their faces. Bardock always stressed the importance of proper training and technique upon them even if they did not know why. It seems he was guiding them even now with his lessons. None of them had even experienced arrow fire as he did in the war, yet here they were shields above their heads and unafraid.

Then he spotted the Iustitia who shook as an arrow struck her shield. From her body language he could tell she was scared. Her face bore a pensive expression as she bit her lip. Unlike the rest of them she did not have the benefit of training or experience.

He thought he should say something encouraging to her, but he was unsure as to what. Unlike her sister, he did not have the benefit of spending years to get know her. He shook his head and made up his mind and walked up to her. She looked up in his eyes with a fearful expression.

"It will be all right," Vegeta told her. "They aren't firing in volleys. So it's not so bad."

Adrestia nodded and agreed, "It means they are amateurs, Iustitia. Training and discipline always trumps attacking sloppily."

"Is that right?" Iustitia asked.

"It is, my father always said that arrows aren't nearly as effective if they aren't fired together," Kakarot said with a smile.

"Don't leave my side during the battle," Adrestia ordered the girl. "You are my squire after all."

"Absolutely my lady," Iustitia affirmed proudly.

0-0-0

Adrestia was pelted with the deadly rain in the dark. Her shield was holding up remarkably well. She had never been on this side of an arrow barrage before. Each thud in the darkness reminded her that she was fortunate enough to have training and well-crafted armor. She felt a glancing blow strike her right pauldron and bounce off. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and gazed into the abyss.

Somewhere out there was a group of soldiers or sailors firing those arrows. In the inky black night she could only see the lights of the ship getting closer. She wished she could see them. An enemy you could see is tangible and instills far less fear than the unknown. Seeing only the torches coming at them allowed the imagination to run wild. Ten enemies become one hundred. Poorly equipped mobs become elite knights in full plate. It was easy to think of such things in the dark.

Adrestia had a better handle on the situation thanks to Austurica. She still felt her heart pound in her chest. However this time she had an idea what real combat was like. Once they came into view she would cut down her enemies one at a time. Battle was only chaos if you let it be chaos. She would show them that discipline and training trumps raw power in a real fight.

"Is it always like this?" Iustitia asked her with her shield up.

"Not always last time I had to fight beasts that were larger than normal men with your sister," Adrestia recounted.

Adrestia looked up to see the light closer than ever before. Had it always been that close? Now she could see details of the ship in the dark. She caught a glimpse of the smaller vessel in the dark. Men were on the rails firing arrows at them. She had no time to process it however as her whole world lurched in a tremendous crash.

She nearly fell over but managed to balance herself. She did hear a few thuds nearby of either sailors or other mercenaries who did fall over. Her stomach churned inside her. It was only for a moment however and the feeling subsided. Now she knew why they did not eat several hours before the assault began.

She looked down to see Iustitia had tumbled on the deck. The girl was still learning. She had yet to master her footwork. Footwork was everything in combat. Standing or falling was the difference between life and death. Adrestia had learned that truth firsthand at the hands of the beasts she fought off previously. Bardock's drills made more sense the more combat she faced. She would pass the lessons on to her squire.

Adrestia gave the girl a hand and said, "There we are. Try to remain on your feet and remember what we have taught you."  
"Thank you my lady," Iustitia responded.

Before they could speak any further battle cries could be heard in the night. Adrestia looked up to see the other ship had not hit them as intended merely smashed the smashed the side of their deck in their own ship. Men were boarded their ship from the neighboring vessels with swords, spears, and other weapons. Most jumped over the small gap, but some landed on nearby ropes.

They appeared mostly in regular clothes and uniforms rather than armor. They must have been sailors who had little use for armor. It seemed madness for her for such men to attack a military force such as theirs. They were probably used to catching smugglers or lightly armed pirates over real warriors.

"Kill them all!" Someone shouted, though Adrestia could not tell which side they were referring to.

A dark haired man landed before her in a dirty linen shirt and brown trousers. He appeared around middle age and wielded an axe. A smile crossed his scarred face at the sight of her. He said something in Tiberian she could not understand. From the tone it sounded vaguely threatening and sexual. She guessed he was probably imagining the things her would do to her body if he could.

Adrestia drew her sword and readied her stance. This fool had no idea who he was threatening. As expected he rushed right at her, axe held high in his hand. It was such an obvious move by an amateur. That might have worked on farmer or a tailor, but not a knight.

Adrestia merely spun her body and smashed her shield in his face as he rushed her. He landed hard on the deck with a thud. His weapon fell from his hand in a clang. He looked up at her with a confused look on his swollen, bloody face. She gave him no time to respond and thrust her blade through his windpipe.

His face was frozen in a state of disbelief. Adrestia merely kicked him off and drew back her blade in one quick motion. In an instant she was already back in her stance with her sword raised and ready for another attack. She sidestepped his body and peered out in the black.

She didn't have time to dawdle. She gave the man a quick death. No telling how many enemies were left and if she was not careful even one of their clumsy attacks could seriously injure or kill her. Her armor protected her but it was not flawless.

"That was brilliant my lady," Iustitia complimented her.

"Pay attention Iustitia. Training and preparation always trumps raw ferocity," She reminded the girl.

Two more men jumped before her. They were more sailors. One had an extremely large hook in his hand he meant to use as a weapon. The other wielded a rusty and worn sword. Both looked at their comrade dead on the ground and made fierce eye contact with Adrestia. They shouted something back forth between them she could not make out.

Adrestia waived them on and boasted, "We haven't got all night boys."

0-0-0

The sounds of struggle surrounded Vegeta in the dark. He was still on the deck of his own ship. Enemies and allies popped in and out of the torchlight killing and beating each other. The smell of blood and flesh tainted the salty sea air. Roars of victory mixed with groans of the wounded in an aria of battle.

He had been separated from his team in the confusion. As he looked around he could not see his companions in ocean of night or the islands of light that broke it up that he could make out. All he could see in the flashes of light were Turles's mercenaries, sailors, marines and enemies in a life or death struggle. He could have sworn he had not veered off to far from his team, and yet they were nowhere in sight.

Instead all he could see was insanity. He could not even tell which side was prevailing in the struggle. It was just a disorganized brawl. It was less like a battle and more like a bloody tavern fistfight. They were just as likely to lose their own men or sailors as kill the enemy. Surely there had to be a better way to conduct sea battles.

Vegeta's tabard was stained with crimson life essence some his own, most belonged to his enemies. His sword was now painted red and droplets fell from its tip. His shield now had half an arrow shaft stuck in it and was marred. A mix of sweat and blood leaked across his face in a steady stream.

A smiling enemy appeared before him. His hair was dark and his eyes were gleamed with a murderous look in his brown orbs. He was a full head taller and had a bit more armor on than regular sailors they had been fighting. He was probably more combat oriented than them, perhaps part of some infantry force. He wielded an axe and a shield.

He approached Vegeta in slow, measured steps. This man was definitely no amateur. Vegeta saw movement in the shoulder of the man's axe hand and raised his shield. The blow struck hard and painfully. It radiated throughout his bones. Then the shield was wrenched from his hand.

Vegeta stumbled a bit but regained his footing. He looked up to see the man struggle to free his axe from the shield so he could continue his attack. Vegeta rushed forward with both hands on his sword now. He thrust at the man's torso.

His sword didn't connect however. All he felt was it glance off something hard. It was the wooden shield. A strong blow knocked his helmet back and rung his head. If he did not know any better, he would have sword the man hit him with a hammer.

He stumbled back a few steps and saw the man had a piece of wood. It looks the handle of some tool or something. It was clearly not meant to be a weapon but it was effective. He dodged a second blow from only to thrust again. This time the man moved in his favor he felt flesh pierced, and then another blow struck Vegeta on his blind side.

Vegeta stumbled again and dropped his sword this time. It clanged on the deck along with the thud of wood. He managed to steady himself before he fell however. Vegeta elbowed behind him blindly trying to estimate where his opponent was. He felt something soft crash into his couter and was rewarded with a sound of a groan.

Vegeta turned and saw the man rear his club back to swing it again. This time Vegeta punched him in the face with a combination of punches and staggered him. Before he could recover, Vegeta reached into his belt, pulled out a knife and stabbed the man in the side of the neck where he knew the large veins were. The man collapsed to his knees. Vegeta pulled his knife out and the man reached for him in vain. The loss of fluid had made him too weak and he could only look at Vegeta with an expression of anger as bright red blood pulsed from him.

"There has got to be a better way than this," Vegeta commented rhetorically.

Vegeta breathed a little harder. Fighting was exhausting. He walked over and picked up his sword. He would have to regroup with the others. It was easy in the chaos like this to get lost.

As he came off his battle high, he just realized that before this night he never actually killed a man before tonight. With his training it was far easier than he expected. There was no hesitation. No existential questions about the meaning of life. There was simply the dance of combat. The better you were at the dance the more efficient and deadly you were.

Vegeta laughed to himself. Best leave the deeper thoughts of the meaning of it all to the poets and philosophers. Vegeta was just here to dance. Woe to those who were not better at it than he.

0-0-0

The battle had finally died down. It seemed like hours to them all but it was likely over in minutes. Vegeta only heard the occasional scream or groan as a wounded man was finished off in the dark. He heard loud splashes from time to time. He guessed that enemy bodies were being thrown overboard.

He breathed in the sea air deeply as he looked at his comrades. He was finally coming down off his battle high. He could see the rest of the mercenaries were doing the same. Biorr and Jenounes gave him an approving nod. Kakarot had a rather somber look. Adrestia was tended to a wounded Iustitia.

Vegeta wiped off his blade, sheathed it, and kneeled next to the pair. From what he could see in the torchlight an arrow struck the girl in her shoulder. Their armor had mitigated most of the damage, but it struck her brigandine between the plates and happened to dig in.

"How are you doing?" Vegeta asked the girl.

"I am all right. I can still fight," Iustitia said with a grimace.

"Rest now, there is no shame in being wounded," Vegeta assured her.

"But my lady-," Iustitia began.

"I'll be fine," Adrestia interrupted before the girl could insist. "We need to get you to the healer though. People can die just as often from infection in battle as anything else."

"All right," Iustitia pouted and lowered her head.

Adrestia raised the girl's chin and informed her, "You did great for your first battle. Stay on the ship and let the healer take care of you."

Iustitia smiled despite the pain and said, "If I must."

"I will take her," Jenounes volunteered.

Vegeta thought about it. He was sure Adrestia would insist she stay with the girl. He looked over and met her eyes. To his surprise, she simply gave him an approving nod.

"Very well," Vegeta agreed.

Jenounes smiled and scooped her up in his giant arms. She clung to him as a child to a parent. It looked rather absurd to Vegeta. She appeared like an armored doll in the giant's arms.

"They said I did a good job," Iustitia informed Jenounes with glee.

"Fantastic you were far braver than I was in my first fight," Jenounes humored her with laugh as he walked towards the cabin.

Iustitia looked up and wondered, "Really?"

"Absolutely, I'll be counting on you to protect me in the battles to come," Jenounes glibly informed her with a deceptively serious look on his face.

Iustitia's childlike laugh could be heard as Jenounes walked away. Apparently the crimson giant had lifted her spirits. Despite the obvious wound she had suffered. An enthusiastic laugh emanated from the pair.

"What do you think they will do with the enemy ship?" Kakarot asked no one in particular.

Vegeta put his hand on his chin and shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Well we don't have the manpower to take both vessels. At least I don't think we do," Adrestia mentioned.

"I suppose they could tow it behind us. Though I don't know if this craft is capable of that, I am no sailor and am a poor judge of ships," Vegeta admitted.

"Then there is the wounded to think of," Kakarot brought up.

Vegeta looked over at the enemy ship. The deck appeared to be littered with the bodies of dead, dying and wounded men. Their moans and cries softly floated on the breeze now that he paid attention to it. Kakarot was right. However they did not likely have the supplies to treat all these men.

This was a conundrum. Decorum and custom dictated that the wounded be treated fairly. Though Vegeta was mostly drilled and educated about land battles more than sea battles. Apparently the sea created lords out of any captain who controlled a ship. So it was up to whatever he said Vegeta guessed.

Vegeta was torn on what he would do if it was his choice. These men were just defending their home. Technically he was the aggressor here. He could not intrinsically hate them the same way he did the beasts at Austurica. It was not their fault an invading armada showed up and defeated them.

In addition they were technically men of a foreign military and should be treated with respect. If they were nobles they would expect to be ransomed back to their families or their king. Or whatever passed for a king in Martea. As he thought on it the more he realized his education had scarcely prepared him for real life.

His tutors more focused on the customs for nobles in battle as if they were the only ones fighting. Yet commoners made up the bulk of every host he would ever engage upon. There was no clear custom on what to do with those types of prisoners. Plus fighting at sea seemed completely different as everything was more tightly rationed since it was limited to what the ships brought with them in terms of supplies.

Turles appeared on the deck with in conversation with a Narbian officer. He was pointing to the ship and the wounded. Apparently the commanders were having the same discussion. Vegeta had to get used to the fact that he was not one of them. He had no say in the decision making process since he was masquerading as a common mercenary.

Turles shouted loud enough to be heard on the enemy ship, "Men back to the Titan!"

The mercenaries gathered from all over. The men on the other ship made their way back with streams of blood staining their weapons along with bits of flesh. A few had open wounds that needed to be stitched up or treated.

Once all men had been gathered aboard, a boy from the ship was handing out firepots to them all. Vegeta's face whitened as he gripped his in his hands. They surely were not going to do this. It would have been quicker to simply take the time cut the wounded down.

A voice interrupted his thoughts grimly and shouted, "Burn the bastards!"

A hail of firepots exploded on the enemy deck. It engulfed the ship in deadly flames. The wounded screamed and begged for mercy in vain as the flames devoured them. The familiar smell of burning flesh flooded Vegeta's nostrils.

It sickened him. He could not do it. He nearly dropped his firepot right on the deck. Luckily he had the good sense to throw his in the water. He heard a few more splashes from nearby. Kakarot and Adrestia had done the same.

The fire spread quickly to the entire enemy ship. It glowed brightly in the dark as the flames licked higher and higher. It bathed the entire area in its ghastly radiance. It felt like the whole world was tainted by its savage flames.

The screams never stopped however. They only grew louder and as new men were found and old ones silenced. Unnerving popping sounds could be heard as flesh cooked and bottles exploded. To their horror, more lights began to break through the dark. They shone like second stars in the ocean of night at least a dozen of them in their view alone. Gods know how many souls still aboard and slowly burning to death.

Vegeta simply held on the railing of his own ship. His griped tightened whitely as they slowly drifted away. He had not even noticed that they cut themselves away from the other ship. In the dark he could see desperate flaming figures jumping over the sides to put themselves out. Dark splashes could be heard as they were dragged down by unseen sea creatures.

"Remind me to outlaw burning at the stake as a punishment," Vegeta commented.

"I will," Kakarot promised him.


	5. Chapter 5

Vegeta leapt onto the dock from his small ship. Behind him the remaining members of his squad did the same. Before him was a port on fire. Buildings burned in the night illuminating the darkness with a familiar orange dread. Smoke filled his nostrils and screams filled the air.

A wave of nausea hit him even though he was on dry land. He bent down one knee and vomited up some bile from his stomach. His heart quickened. His mouth turned dry as the taste of ashes filled him. His body trembled involuntarily.

He looked out once more and no longer saw the port. Instead his vision was filled of that night of hellish fires that was Austurica. Its humble stone buildings surrounded by fire and ash. Bodies of those poor souls who fought and were devoured savagely filled the streets. Beasts bounded towards him with claws and fury with predatory, golden eyes and blood red talons.

His arms were frozen at his sides. Too heavy to lift as they felt like they were weighed a thousand times more than normal. A great black beast reached for him. He could see the ivory daggers in its mouth as it licked its lips in a wicked smile. Great talons reached for his unprotected face, and felt a great agony as flesh was ripped and his sight stolen anew from him.

He felt a sense of warmth radiating from his shoulder. The spell was broken. He was once more upon the docks of the port. Waves crashed in his ears. The buildings before him once more belonged to Narbo. He reached up to his left pauldron and felt a familiar hand there, gentle, but strong.

He gazed up to see Adrestia watching over him. She did not tease or mock him as they would have done in their previous lives. Behind the barbute he could see the expression on her beautiful countenance was merely of understanding. She merely nodded at him, with a glint of sadness in her dark eyes. He turned and took her hand as he propped himself up to stand once again.

Kakarot also gave him a reassuring nod as he stood behind her. Biorr looked on with curiosity as what just happened he did not understand. It was not the man's fault. He was simply not there. It was the three of them. It would always be the three of them. They were a trinity.

Vegeta unsheathed his sword and raised his shield. His fellow warriors did the same. He turned his head and gazed upon the chaos they were about to walk into. This would be just like their bloody brawl upon the ship only on a larger scale.

"Well let's get on with it then," Vegeta commanded as he raised his sword.

Vegeta turned and walked forward into the fires of combat. Kakarot and Adrestia followed behind him swords at the ready. Biorr followed the trio with an excited grin and his great axe ready. It was time to get down to business.

0-0-0

Kakarot stood over his fallen enemy and took a breath. The man was a city guard. Or at least he was. He could barely make out his features now that he had fallen on the stone road. Blood dripped from his blade. An aroma of sweat and blood filled the air.

Killing a man was easier than he thought it was. It was simply a matter of following his sword and shield drills. Yet now that he had a moment. It dawned upon him that he actually took a life. He was unsure how he felt about it. He enjoyed the thrill of combat as he always had. Yet he snuffed out the man's life as easily as someone putting out a candle. This was somehow different than his last battle.

At Austurica they were defenders. They were fighting for the safety of the town against barely human monsters. This time they were the attackers. The port was fine before they got here. Now here they were setting it ablaze.

Kakarot watched his doppelganger Turles across the street. A few men had gathered about him. His face was lit up with glee. Blood and gore covered his armor and weapons. He was laughing as he threw a firepot into a nearby house.

Was this really soldier's work? Kakarot asked himself. He could not help but wonder what the point was of all this wanton destruction. Surely there were better ways to go about this. He could not help but think of all the regular townsfolk caught up in their assault.

He really had no way of knowing how many of them would die tonight. There was practically no way to assure that they only engaged the city's guards and military forces. Women would be raped tonight. Children would be slaughtered. And there was nothing he could do to stop any of it.

A heavy set, black haired, bearded man in his thirties ran at Turles. The man had a dirty apron on and hammer rose above his head. Even from this distance Kakarot could tell he was no soldier. Turles waived off his men and engaged this mad fool on his own.

He shouted something in Tiberian at the men. Kakarot had no way of knowing what was said. However the pain in his voice was unmistakable. Turles merely laughed the man off and responded in a mocking tone in the foreign tongue. As the man ran at Turles, he mere sidestepped the clumsy hammer blow and slashed open the man's neck.

The strike was quick and fluid. It was so fast that if you did not know what to look for, you would have missed it. The man certainly was not expecting it as he collapsed clutching his throat. He cursed them once more in Tiberian through wheezing bloody breaths.

"Dumb bastard," Turles remarked with a laugh. "You should have run away like all the other smart ones."

All Kakarot could do was stare into the distance unsure of himself at that moment. He looked down and saw his own blade painted crimson with the life essence of his enemy. Was he really that much different than Turles? He liked to think his father raised him to be a better man. Yet he had also callously taken lives this night as well just without the laughter.

"Kakarot," Biorr called out behind him.

The golden giant loomed over him. His piercing blue eyes understanding much more than he let on. His blue armor was now stained crimson and black as well. His roaring bear axe now freshly tasted of its last meal of man flesh looked hungry for more.

"Do not think of such things now," Biorr instructed him.

"But…"Kakarot objected but was interrupted.

"It will do you no good to do so," Biorr told him. "War is ugly but necessary. Questioning it right here in the middle of the battle will only get either you killed or one of us. You don't want that do you?"

"No I don't," Kakarot admitted.

"Come then we will fight more and earn our pay. We are almost done anyway," Biorr reasoned with a waived of his hand. "And I'll buy you a drink after."

"And some food?" Kakarot suggested meekly.

"Of course good food and drink are one of some of the best things in life," Biorr assured him.

0-0-0

Vegeta turned the corner from his squad and found himself in a dimly lit alley. His shield was in one hand and his blade drawn up in the attack position, ready to strike. It was lit in a familiar, orange glow that allowed him to just make out every stone in the pavement around him. The alley itself appeared strangely deserted for a city with a population fleeing their assault. He could only make out the faint sound of burning and far off carnage.

He figured they had to come across their mission objective sooner or later. How much damage did they really intend to do on the port? Their invasion force, though a few thousand strong was no match for the might that the fully mobilized Martean military could muster. They had already caused heavy damage to the Martean Navy. Its port was also heavily damaged along with any residential and commercial buildings in range of the siege weapons.

He was now merely waiting for the horns to sound so he could make his way back to his ship. He had done his share of fighting for the night. He would let any foes smart enough to escape from now on. No reason to take any unnecessary risks so close to the end.

He breathed in heavily, only just realizing how tired he was. It was late at night and he had pushed himself along with his knights hard tonight. Right now he wanted nothing more than to wash the grime off his body and take a good nap. Perhaps some food would be great as well.

Vegeta laughed to himself and grumbled, "I'm slowly turning into Kakarot."

He let out a loud sigh and turned his heels. He was done for the night. Signal or no signal he was going to rejoin his squad and get back to the boat. He could see the next corner where he last left them and put his sword away.

"It's dangerous to be wandering all alone right now," a voice threatened in the night.

Vegeta did a quick spin on his heel and drew his sword once more. There behind him. He spotted a long dark figure in black cloth in a white mask. Damn! How did he sneak up on me! Vegeta silently cursed. Outwardly he tried to his surprise but at despite his controlled breaths, he gripped his sword a little tighter and his steps were a little unsure.

He eyed the figure in the dark that had crept up a mere six or seven paces behind him. He was a man or at least Vegeta though he was from the way he appeared. He was of average height and his dark clothing purposely hid his features. He appeared to be a thief or some other unsavory person in who worked in secrecy.

His pure white mask was in the shape of a skull with an expressionless face and empty dark pits for eyes. It had s single red tear down its right eye that looked the color of blood. The thing certainly had the desired effect of unnerving him just gazing up the man. Vegeta had thought masks were silly things for costumes or court balls. He was just now realized that in the right situation they were quite terrifying.

"You didn't speak Tiberian," Vegeta noted.

"You don't understand Tiberian," the man answered curtly with a slight accent he could not place.

"Are you a local?" Vegeta questioned.

"Surely you know better than that," the man pointed out to him.

"Very well, local or not, leave now and no harm shall come to you," Vegeta offered the man.

The man really chuckled darkly and responded, "I don't think so. That would make my mission problematic if I left now."

"What is your mission?" Vegeta queried, unsure if he really want to know.

"You are my mission," the man called out to him grimly.

Vegeta barely raised his shield in time for him to block what the man threw at him. It stuck in his shield with a little thud. He wanted to look down to see what it was, yet he could not. Taking his eyes off this man could be a costly mistake.

In a flash the man produced two silver bladed knives seemingly from nowhere. They gleamed slightly in the low orange haze. The man also got into an unfamiliar stance. Though admitted Vegeta was mostly only familiar with the fighting style of his homeland of Saiya.

Vegeta slowly circled in his own stance. He kept his shield up to protect him from any more projectiles the man might have. His crimson stained blade raised above him. He could not tell if the man was smiling or scared. He could only see that cursed mask. Yet the man's hands appeared steady as he twirled the blades in his hands like a street performer.

He found it curious the man would even attempt to attack him with such weapons. Surely the man knew that in his armor he was practically invulnerable to knife wounds. Not just that, he had a much better range with his own sword than any dagger. He should be able to strike the man down before the man could anything about it.

Vegeta struck first. He kept his shield up and struck with a three move combo of a thrust, followed by an overhead diagonal slash, then a horizontal cut. Vegeta grunted, frustrated. Each time his blade did not bite into a blade but was deflected by a deft block by the knives of his opponent.

Vegeta had no time to think as the man counter attacked immediately. He had never seen such speed before. The man dodged his counter attacks easily and blocked others. As Vegeta brought his shield up to protect him from the attacks as the man closed on him, he stumbled backwards as the force a blow landed on his shield.

Before he could bring his shield up he felt cold steel bite into his flesh. The man chosen his targets well as Vegeta could feel the blood pooling underneath his armor. He regained his footing and glared at the man, noting the now darkened color of the blades in the man's hands. Whoever this man was, he knew what he was doing. He managed to cut Vegeta while avoiding hitting the armored pieces he was wearing.

"I'm disappointed," the man mocked. "I took you for a warrior."

That got Vegeta's blood boiling. The man was mocking his battle prowess now. It would take a thousand little cuts for the man to bring him down with knives. Vegeta was more than confident by then the man would make a mistake.

Vegeta growled and released more furious blows. He became more enraged as the man simply swatted them aside with a fluid clang of his blades. He felt more cuts open between the gaps in his armor. Then he was hit with something completely unexpected. Vegeta thrust forward as the man spun his body away from the move stuck him hard with a kick to the face. The hard blow knocked him off his feet and his shield fell away with a loud crack of wood, his sword dropped with a clang nearby.

He did not know how hard he landed on the stone street below but he sure felt it. He looked skyward unsure of the passage of time utterly confused. He could not contemplate this fighting style. He was sure he had not dreamed it. The man had knocked him off his feet with a kick to the face. He had never seen anyone move like that. He did not know men were capable of such things.

The dark shadow loomed over Vegeta now with his mask looking down. Vegeta could have sworn the ivory skull mask appeared to be in a seemingly mocking expression. Or perhaps he just imagined that it mocked him. He could not really tell. He could tell the man was shaking his head and twirled his blades in his hands.

"Don't worry it will all be over soon," the man almost reassured him.

Vegeta closed his eyes for a reason he could not fathom. He tried to lift his arms only to have them only weakly respond. His arms felt like stones. Then he felt the reason. He could feel the warmth leaving his body as his life leaked from him. The darkness merely laughed at his weak attempts at protest. The prince could only growl in defiance, the last defense of a dying beast. He would bite the man if that was what it took, but he refused to go down meekly.

The world began to fade in his vision. He could only assume he was bleeding out. He had expected the man to deliver the final coup de grace to him. Yet instead of a sharp pain, he heard only a grunt. A heavenly scent filled his nostrils as he wearily cracked open his eyes. He could make out a long dark braid in the darkness and a familiar shining armor. The last image he saw was his beautiful companion with a determined look on her face, and then he was overcome by the dark.

0-0-0

The masked man stared down his new challenger through his eerie eyeless mask. He had not counted on this. He had been given no instructions on any others. His job was to end the one eyed lord's life. That much was made explicitly clear by his employers.

He snarled and bit down on his lip slightly. Well if this is what is required he would do it. He always got the job done. If he had to go through this woman then so be it.

The man twirled his dual blades once more and got into his stance. As he stared into her eyes he could not help but be taken aback. There was some hard steel in that glance. Despite her ethereal beauty, he could sense the anger that pierced through him with her stare.

"This has nothing to do with you. Leave now woman," He commanded.

"Skip the pointless banter. You know I'm not leaving," She retorted in a cold tone.

"As you wish," the man said and rushed towards her.

He struck hard and fast. Each slash of his blades in a deadly arc and each kick and elbow in practiced bone crushing rhythm. To his surprise however she countered all his blows and cuts with ease. Instead of flesh he only felt metal and wood.

The man growled with frustration and kicked the woman's shield as she blocked with his full weight as he spun his body. Such a move had devastated the one eyed lord before and he assumed would allow him to defeat her. He heard a pain cry from the woman and felt the shield lower in satisfaction. So he pressed his attack while her defenses were down.

His blades bit only more steel however. To his chagrin, she managed to block his moves once more without a shield. He man nearly growled again. He looked down to see she had drawn a second blade from somewhere. This one was smaller, roughly the size or a dagger.

He was impressed. He could not lie. In the space of an instant the woman let go of her shield and had already drawn a dagger to counter his numerous strikes and slashes. This woman was definitely good. She circled him now, perfectly balanced, both blades held high ready to strike like a scorpion.

"You're better than him," the man pointed out, clearly surprised.

The man needed to close in on his target yet this woman thwarted him. He did the first thing that came to his mind and threw both his daggers at the lord lying in the street. Then man rushed forward towards his target as he reached into his cloak for more. He was stopped in his tracks as the woman attacked him first with a sword in one hand and a dagger in her other. He barely had time to block her blades.

The man leapt backwards. As he glanced over he saw yet another man dressed the same as the lord with a red sash on in front of the lord. He held his shield up with the daggers in them that the man threw just before. Beside him a giant in steely blue armor leaned down to examine the lord. Things were growing out of hand. He could not take all of them and walk away unscathed. So he did the only sensible thing a professional would do.

"Another time then," the man said simply as he put away his blades and stepped back into the darkness.

0-0-0

The three of them stood there for a moment unsure of what they had just encountered. Vegeta was still out of it and a little groggy. Biorr had his strapped his bloody axe on his back and knelt beside him. He bound the injured man's wounds as best he could with a few bits of cloth he had in his kit. Kakarot and Adrestia traded worried looks as they looked over Vegeta's bloody body.

"Are we just going to let him go?" Kakarot asked no one in particular.

"He isn't our mission," Biorr reminded them. "Besides we must get Vegeta to a healer."

"How is he?" Adrestia asked unable to mask her concern.

"I've stopped the bleeding for now. But he needs hands more skilled than my own and proper medicine," Biorr informed her.

"Who the hell was he?" Kakarot wondered.

"A profession it seems. That technique he used was not something a normal soldier trains in," Adrestia commented as she sheathed her blades. "It definitely bodes ill, but let us return to the ship for the time being."


	6. Chapter 6

Vegeta felt cold. He opened his eyes to see the familiar hellish sight. The fire burned all around him engulfing the city as he lay on the stone street. Its red orange glow only made the darkness around him loom larger instead of banishing it. And despite being so close to it he felt no warmth from its damning embrace. So this was his end. His companions must have been too late.

Silver glinted in the dark. A familiar sight, something he needed instinctually, his sword lay just out of reach. If he was going to die he wanted to feel its familiar grasp once more. He wasn't sure but he had heard that Zelus would spurn warrior who died without a weapon in their hands. That would definitely not be his fate.

He willed himself to move. Only to feel muscles protest him. He could feel the fluid draining from his body. His arms were heavy as stone. It took all his effort to barely move just his right arm a little off the ground. He reached out a few bloody fingers desperately. He growled as it was just out of reach.

Then a bright light cut through the darkness. A divine being appeared before him. Her long hair was braided in a single golden braid and her bright silver armor cut through the darkness. Her body was voluptuous; it was a heavenly balance of feminine beauty and ferocity. Fit to fight for or pleasure the war god. He could not make out her face as light obscured it. Though he need not see it to know what she was. This was one of Zelus's handmaidens here to judge if he was fit for the Eternal Proving Grounds or not.

Her heavenly light blinded him. He squinted his eyes as she looked over him. When it was too much for his eyes he turned slightly. It took all his strength to weakly raise his hand to shield his eyes. She shook her head and turned away from him. Which caused him to panic, and he wrenched himself up with his other arm. He reached out to her, nearly stumbling over, only to see her beginning to fade away.

This could not be. Surely he of all people had earned his way into the Eternal Proving Ground. He belonged with his grandfather and all the other warrior kings before him all the way back to the founder of his line. Sure perhaps his deeds were not as legendary as theirs, but he did fall in combat. He coughed weakly in protest. **If only he had his sword she would not have spurned him!** He thought.

"Wait," he attempt to cry out yet only coughed out weakly.

He must have got her attention as she looked upon him once more. The white light once more blinded him. _Yes!_ He had her attention. Perhaps he could convince her. Surely she would see reason.

"I deserve to go," he said to her simply.

"Excuse me?" she asked him, she did not know what he meant.

"The Eternal Proving Ground," Vegeta clarified. "I deserve to go."

The woman laughed in sweetly familiar laugh, "You're not going to the proving ground Vegeta."

Vegeta was crushed. How could something so beautiful crush him so completely? Her dismissal was almost playful, as if he what he said was nonsense. He had to plead with her once more. He didn't want to be sent to the Garden.

"Why not? Surely I deserve to go as much as any man?" He pointed out in frustration.

"You can't go because you are not dying," she simply informed him.

"I'm not?" Vegeta asked in confusion.

"Of course not, your wound's not that bad you big baby. You'll be up and around in no time," She mocked with a chuckle.

It was then that the light faded and he could make out her beautiful face. Adrestia's beautiful countenance replaced the blinding light. The glittering godly armor faded, replaced by their simple brown tabard. The dark and burning city was replaced by dark wooden beams and dimly lit lamp.

"Adrestia?" Vegeta asked in confusion.

"Yes it's only me you fool," she mocked with a familiar smile on her face. "Who did you think it was?"

"I…" Vegeta began but decided against revealing too much. "No one."

He sank back in the bed in embarrassment. He wasn't sure what to think. So he cocked his head to the side to hide the look on his face. He felt like a fool calling out to her like that. He was sure he would hear no to end it once he was well enough.

Adrestia kneeled beside him and gave him a nurturing look. She checked his bandages once more to just to be certain. Something had caused a stir in Vegeta. She wasn't sure what it was. Still he shouldn't try anything crazy just yet.

"The healer stitched you up just fine. He said you should make a full recovery by the time we make landfall," She told him. "In the meantime, I'll get you some food."

0-0-0

Vegeta sat cleaning his gear. His head still ached and his wounds burned with every slight movement his body made. Yet still he continued on. Despite a humiliating defeat at the hands of the man in the skull mask, he would not simply lie in bed. He refused to.

In their cabin as usual was the rest of his team. They were each absorbed in the same task he was. All except for Iustitia, who was still with the healer for the time being. They had been smart enough not bring up his loss for their evening meal. He was certainly in a foul mood.

He gazed over at Adrestia, whose normally long braided hair fell loosely with slight curls about her as she cleaned her armor pieces. **How is it she with stood his attacks?** He wondered to himself. He grumbled a curse under his breath and had to remind himself that there were certain things she excelled at far better than him.

Kakarot was absent mindedly chewed on dried meat as he oiled his sword. Never one to go without food for long, even Vegeta had to admire his persistence to it. He swallowed a large piece whole and eyed his blade. It made Vegeta's cracked lips form a painful smile. The fool was always amusing.

The door swung open with a bang. Turles strode confidently inside flanked by Biorr and Jenounes. He hadn't even cleaned himself off. Bits of blood and gore stained his battle armor and tabard. He stank of a combination of sweat, blood and other fluids Vegeta could not quite place.

All eyes were on the captain as he stopped in front of Vegeta. His gaze seemed to be lingering on Vegeta's injuries as one eyed the flaws in a new horse. A cynical smile graced his features. He glanced over the rest of the squad before turning back to Vegeta.

"I hear you had quite the fight," Turles mentioned condescendingly with a smile curled on his lips.

Anger boiled within Vegeta. As looked upon Turles and that infuriating grin he was reminded of those poor souls lost on the ship. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. They should not have been treated like that. It went against everything he had been taught.

After a moment that seemed like a lifetime, Vegeta leapt to his feet. His sword fell from his grip with a clang on the floor. Without any words he struck Turles full force on his cocky mouth. His heart felt lighter as he felt the man stagger back. It lasted only a moment though.

In a flash Turles was balanced on the balls of his feet. With a serious look on his face struck Vegeta with two hard blows to the face knocking the man over. Vegeta growled and picked himself off the deck. The audience around them was shocked to see things come to this so quickly.

Adrestia and Kakarot leapt to their feet out of pure instinct. They wordlessly flanked Vegeta. Biorr and Jenounes both had a stony expression on their faces. They exchanged a quick glance at the Saiyan knights around the prince. Jenounes merely shook his head to warn them off, while Biorr crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders. After a brief look to one another, Kakarot and Adrestia decided to let things play out released their tense breaths.

"Lordling or no, no man strikes me without recompense," Turles in formed Vegeta with his fists still raised.

"You knew there were still men alive on those ships you set aflame," Vegeta cursed at him and pointed his finger accusingly at Turles's chest.

Turles merely laughed it off as if he was educating a boy, "Listen here _my lord_ , those men you value so highly would have roasted all of you alive as well." He pointed to Adrestia and continued, "Except the women, they would have been taken back and fucked to within an inch of death at best. At worst they would have been sold to the brothels."

"You don't know that," Vegeta spit out.

Turles merely laughed again, "Oh but I do. Trust me I've been on the receiving end of a few lost battles myself. Still if you can't handle it you can always back out now. I'll see you paid for the last mission and you leave my company once we make port."

Vegeta couldn't go that far, so he conceded, "I suppose it's fine."

"Good because you don't want to miss the next part. It pays the best," Turles informed them all with a sly grin.

"What's the next part?" Kakarot wondered, breaking the tension in the room.

"What would you do if a rival burned your port down with your navy?" Turles asked the man.

"Assemble the army," Adrestia answered for him.

"Brains and beauty, you sure you want to stay with this lot? You can do better," Turles commented as he looked her over admiringly.

Adrestia scoffed at his advance and merely informed him, "I will continue my duties."

Turles shrugged and continued to explain, "It will take some time but they will call in all their forces and launch a full scale counter attack. So we have time but the real fun begins soon enough."

A bloody smile graced Vegeta's face. A pitched battle, something no Saiyan had experienced in years. This was exactly what they had come out here to take part in. Soon enough he'd fight in a great conflict with thousands of other souls. He couldn't wait for the chance to make up for his defeat earlier.

0-0-0

A devilishly handsome young man lounged on opulent red cushions. Garbed in rich purple and white with trimmings of gold on his robes, he looked the part of both god and king. He wore his inky black hair in soldier's cut as was his life before he claimed his new position. His lips were stained as deep a purple as his clothing in contrast to his porcelain skin.

He was surrounded on all sides by gorgeous nubile young women from all corners of his realm. As was his usual meal routine, he was dining on enough sumptuous dishes to feed four families spread out on an ornately carved wooden table. Though he only nibbled bits from each dish. This meal he had a golden haired beauty feeding his sweet red grapes while a dark haired minx held his wine for him.

He heard the door to his chamber open and hard boots on the marble floor of the palace. He did not bother looking up. He simply nibbled on another sweet grape. He laughed a bit and tickled the beauty who held it, who rewarded him with a boisterous giggle.

"Lord Frieza," the man called out to him.

Frieza raised his eyes and glared at the man who stood across his elegant table. The man jumped when he locked eyes with Frieza. **Just as it should be** , he thought. His best men should never be complacent in their positions each of them was replaceable, even Ginyu. He let out a sinister chuckled and beckoned the man to continue. A bit theatrical to be sure, however his position required a bit of showmanship.

He knew what this was about yet he had to pretend otherwise. The man before him was one of his best commanders. He was tall, beautiful, and sculpted like a statue. Men envied him and women wanted him. He had taken to wearing his jade hair long in single braid in defiance of traditional soldier's cut. Yet aspiring men needed their eccentricities if they were to hope to gain a following.

The rest of the man was garbed in a traditional commander's uniform. A dark leather brigandine covered by silvery steel ring mail. His tabard was a deep dark bloody red, the traditional color of the empire as the god of war favored blood. The proud golden eagle of the empire was worn on the front of the tabard so no one would mistake the imperial soldier.

"What is it Zarbon?" Frieza inquired pretending to be slightly annoyed.

Zarbon merely bowed and stated, "You sent for me my lord."

"Yes I did. I have a job for you Zarbon," Frieza informed him.

"Of course, I will be happy to do it," Zarbon replied obediently.

"I need you to head to Tiberia. Something is interesting is happening there," Frieza informed him.

"There is nothing there but a bunch of uncultured barbarians my lord," Zarbon nearly spit out, not bothering to hide his distaste.

"Yet it was the birthplace of our empire, and one day we shall reclaim what is rightfully mine," Frieza reminded him.

"Perhaps we can bring a little civilization to those ingrates," Zarbon sneered.

"One day Zarbon but for now I wish you to go Narbo. A request has been made and I intend to honor it." Frieza commanded him.

"How many men should I take with me?" Zarbon inquired unsure of the scale of the request.

"Three legions should suffice," Frieza informed him. "After all they are only monkeys with no proper training."

"Wouldn't you prefer to let Ginyu handle this?" Zarbon suggested hoping Frieza would let him stay.

"No Ginyu has own assignments to carry out. There is always someone plotting against you as the emperor as you well know. By the way keep an eye out for a one eyed Saiyan," Frieza mentioned casually at the end.

"A one eyed Saiyan?" Zarbon questioned with a raised brow.

"I hear he is particularly interesting. Do be sure to report back everything out," Frieza stated.

"Very well," Zarbon replied and bowed once more before taking his leave.

Things were getting fascinating. And if his intelligence briefings were correct, this was a great opportunity to show the uncouth monkeys of that region who the true master of the world was. His only regret was that politics forced him to stay at the moment. He would have loved to get a look at this monkey prince himself.

Frieza looked at his beautiful servants. There was more than one way to pass the time. Politics could wait. He could use a more physical workout with these two. After all that's why he had these women here, to serve his every desire.


	7. Chapter 7

Biorr took a few swings with his great axe. It felt good to have it in his hands again. He was so far from home, sometimes he felt all alone in this world. The roaring bear on the blade reminded him of the snowy north and sharing drinks with his family there.

                It was almost time to go. He knew the Captain would appear soon to give them all a few words before they left. He always did such things before a big battle. Still many would not live to see tomorrow. A few words for their commander before such things were always helpful. Men needed to be reminded of their focus from time to time.

                The others in the squad were chatting amongst themselves. These kids really impressed him overall. Sure at times he could see their age, especially when they drank or interacted with each other. However it was during battle that things changed. He could tell that someone had given them training. They were no amateurs. Even they look in their eyes changed from innocent to hard steel in combat.

                While the youngest one appeared to be the newest member to him and Jenounes, the other three had been through a lot. Kakarot always had a ready smile and cheerful attitude. Adrestia was a fearsome warrior goddess. Something his people praised. She would have been a legendary shield maiden had she been born to his people.

                Then there was Vegeta. Turles initially told him and Jenounes to watch the group and let him know if they wouldn’t cut it. A young lord might fold under pressure after all. It was a common thing for young rich lads from good families to think this life would bring great adventure like in the stories their wet nurse told them. However this boy showed a surprising amount of grit. It should have been apparent by the scars he bore as well as the red sash that covered his eye, this lord knew what fighting was.

The others trusted the lord, and he was a natural leader. Though he needed more experience, he could one day become a legendary commander. There was something about him that despite his size, that felt dangerous. He had seen the lord fight with skill and precision on the ship, despite his setback with the assassin.

Biorr and Jenounes had been skeptical of the lord’s squad training and morning rituals. However he could not argue with how it made him feel. The runs they underwent, though tiring, made him feel good afterward. He felt somehow stronger and fitter just by doing it with them a few weeks. He could not wait to test it out today.

Biorr’s thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Iustitia. The girl was grasping her blade and dressed for combat. All eyes were one her, including a very skeptical Adrestia. Adrestia stepped forward and stopped the girl in her tracks with a raised hand and disapproving gaze.

“I’m coming too,” Iustitia protested, with a determined look on her face.

“You’re not,” Adrestia ordered simply in a tone that bore no argument in it.

“I’m not going to be left behind,” Iustitia declared defiantly.

“All right then,” Adrestia said simply in an even tone.

“All right?” Iustitia repeated, a little confused.

“Draw your sword,” Adrestia ordered the girl.

                Iustitia hesitated a bit. All the others were silent around the two. She could feel the wind in the air as her heart beat furiously within her.  She then slowly removed Nerine’s treasured sword from its sheath on her waist. The blade shone brightly as jewel in the morning light. The girl had recently oiled it with care.

                The air was thick with tension and the squad exchanged looks. They were all curious as to what Adrestia would do. For the most part the girl’s welfare was Adrestia’s responsibility. Surely she would not let her participate in what was to come.

“Raise it above your head,” Adrestia commanded.

                Iustitia flustered a bit. Then slowly began to raise her blade. It was easy at first, however the higher she raised it, the more she grit her teeth. Once it was slightly above shoulder level she dropped it again, the pain obviously got too great.

“You are unfit for combat,” Adrestia assessed coolly. “Stay behind and help with the wounded.”

                Iustitia slumped her shoulders in defeat. She sheathed her blade again. She saw no relenting in Adrestia’s composed glare whatsoever. She let out a half sigh, half childish whimper showing her youth.

“I can’t let you go without me!” Iustitia practically begged.

“You’ll die in your condition,” Adrestia informed her. “Be patient there will be other battles. For this one you will remain in the camp.”

0-0-0

Turles stood in front of his men this morning. He was clad in his full battle regalia once again. His helmet was off as he cradled it in his right hand. The light breeze gently lapped at his red and black tabard. It was a good morning. Nice and cool with a little dew hanging off the blades of grass. He could taste the water in the air.

He always favored such mornings over doing battle in hot, dry conditions. Though a mercenary goes where the money is, he still had his preferences. He took a few deep breaths and smiled. He could practically taste victory.

He gathered the men this morning as he always had before a big battle. It was a trait he picked up from his former captain. He didn’t have time or patience to write down some highly flowered learned speech as they do in songs and stories. Though the men always needed a little reminding of what their business was about is all.

He caught sight of Vegeta’s squad. The five of them were all chatted with each other. They had become quite close he noticed. That was not something he had intended. When he had assigned Biorr and Jenounes to them, he only did it so they would be half competent in battle. He had no idea they would form a real bond.

Morning training, squad drills, it all seemed so ridiculous to him. His mercenaries did not need to drill like those peasant soldiers the lords would call up to fill their ranks. His men were killers. Each and every one of them could fight and kill. They had no need to practice walking at the same time.

“Men, today we go into battle. You all know what that means,” Turles called out to them so every man could hear him.

“It means killing,” One of his men answered.

“That’s right.” Turles said as he pointed to the rolling hills. “Over that way lies the enemy. They are ripe with coin, jewels and gold for the taking. All we have to do is kill them and it’s all ours.”

                The men laughed and howled excitedly. Every mercenary knew the score. For every fallen enemy always carried some sort of trinket or two to be looted from his corpse. No good on dead men anyway. Big battles like this offered much better pickings than small skirmishes. If they got lucky they might even kill an officer or a lord with a few gold coins in his pockets.

“Not only that, the more of them we kill. The more widows and daughters will need comforting when we reach the city.” Turles pointed out.

                A loud cheer went up at that. Turles knew exactly what they were all thinking of. They was nothing quite like bedding a fine beauty. He preferred them nice and busty. Much like that companion of Vegeta’s who kept giving him the cold shoulder. Still a man needs some comfort in life and that’s what wine, women and song were for.

Turles unsheathed his sword and aimed it in the direction of the city, “So let’s go kill these sons of bitches and take all their gold and their pretty wives and daughters!”

0-0-0

Kakarot stood in place within the sea of humanity all around them. This was the first time he had been in such a large swath of people. Sure he had taken part in a few parades and festivals in the capital before. But this felt different.

As he looked at his squad he could see they made up only on small drop in this ocean. The army was made up of thousands and thousands of warriors. All were moving in the same direction, all with the same goal, it was like not he had ever experienced. He felt they could accomplish anything with such numbers.

He knew that around half of the force was made up of soldiers from Narbo. The rest were mercenaries like themselves. He could make out the red and black uniforms of the regular soldiers. However the mercenary forces had all sorts of different armor, weapons, standards and colors. It the first time he had any sense of how large the world truly was.

Compared to this, their previous battles were but little skirmishes. He could practically feel the excitement coming off Vegeta. The prince had his helmet off and was adjusting his red sash before combat. He bore a confident smirk on his face. He was looking over the hill hungrily for the first signs of the enemy.

Next to Kakarot was Adrestia. Her long dark tresses were worn in her customary single braid. She flashed Kakarot knowing look. It filled him with confidence. He could always count her. That was what so special about her to him. Not her looks or any other superficial things most men cared about. He could count on her and Vegeta.

Biorr and Jenounes were on either side of them in their armor. It was Vegeta’s idea to put the two large men on either side. The plan was to march into battle in some sort of “V” formation with the big men funneling enemies toward the center. Kakarot wasn’t sure it was a good idea, however Vegeta insisted that it was a tactic that worked from ancient times. Kakarot had never taken to the scholarly side of warfare so he’d have to take Vegeta’s word for it.

“Have you ever seen such sights?” Kakarot asked no one in particular.

“The world is a large and strange place,” Adrestia agreed as she looked at a group of men carrying curved swords.

                They were about fifty of them. Each man had his face partially covered by a garb that Kakarot could not place. The skin he could make out on them was dark and brown. Their curved swords reminded him of the moon. The armor he could make out was a simple ringed mail over light tan robes. Though he had no doubt they layered their armor just like he did. Ringed mail was great at protecting from slashes but no so good at pointed weapons like spears. Only a foolish warrior would not account for that. 

They chatted amongst themselves in words he could not understand. However this was probably what he and the rest of the Saiyans sounded like when they talked. The rest of the people in this land typically only spoke in Tiberian.  He really needed to learn the language here if they were going to spend a long period of time here.

“Those are desert nomads from across the sea,” Biorr pointed out to them.

“I didn’t think there was anything in the desert,” Vegeta admitted.

“It’s only a shadow of its former glory. The old Tiberian Empire destroyed many ancient kingdoms there. People still live there though. People always go on, even when kingdoms fall,” Jenounes informed them.

“Are they any good at fighting?” Kakarot wondered aloud.

“They are excellent horsemen as most nomads are. On foot, it most depends on the clan. Some are just as good as any you will find. Others only specialize in light raids,” Biorr mentioned as he oiled his axe.

                Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of horns. They all turned their attention ahead and saw a wave of warriors crest into view. From this distance, Kakarot could not exactly make out how many, but he guessed it was comparable to theirs. He also could not make out what colors the Marteans used in battle from this distance. It all just blended in a tapestry of colors standards and metal.

                Turles walked out front of them. He appeared to be talking with a messenger from the Narbians. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but saw them both point to a few gestures towards the enemy host. Turles nodded in response to whatever the man had told him and walked forward to face his company.

Turles bellowed out in a loud voice, “This is it men!”

                Kakarot’s heart beat furiously in his chest. He could feel every drop of sweat and every hair that touched the breeze. This was it. He was actually shaking a bit, though he was unsure if it was from fear or anticipation. He could hear weapons being unfastened, and blades being unsheathed.

                Loud horns rang out simultaneously all over the battlefield. There was no mistaking what that meant. He didn’t need to be given every detail of the plan.  It was finally time and they all knew it. Turles drew his and waved it over his head.

“Follow me!” Turles ordered and charged towards the enemy.

                All around them the other commanders gave similar orders.  Great battle cries arose around them as all the warriors moved en masse. Kakarot caught up in the sentiment loused his own cry as he trotted next to his squad in calculated quick pace.

0-0-0

Adrestia cut down the man before her with a swift side stroke. Blood rained upon the ground from his neck upon the battlefield as a grisly offering to the war god. He fell to the ground in an ungraceful clump. It was so easy. The more that came at her, the more that fell at her feet.

At this point in the battle the ground was covered in the dead and the dying. The previously green grass now stained with the lifeblood of friend and foe alike. Cries of pain and anguish carried on the wind in a dreadful chorus. It was getting difficult to walk without stepping on a body, or a hand, or entrails. She didn’t even bother looking down anymore but could feel something wet and soft on her last step.

 The songs and stories the bards told never spoke of such before. It was definitely unnerving to her. Though she knew of the logistics of combat, seeing for her own for the first time was still unsettling. Even her own previous battle against the beasts had ill prepared her for the gory spectacle before her own eyes. The reality of battle would likely make a poor story, compared to the sweet songs of courage and bravery.

She could make out Jenounes to her left covering the left flank of their V formation. The red giant towered over everyone and with his two handed longsword he cut down men with such ferocity she feel the impact from where she stood. No matter how often she witnessed it, it amazed her.

Jenounes cut off the entire arm above the elbow of his latest opponent in a single swing. The man cried out and held his bloody stump as he kneeled in front of the giant. Jenounes simply kicked the man over and swung his sword at the man behind the kneeling one, cutting off his head. Then without breaking stride he stomped down hard on the man below crushing his throat.

Adrestia was impressed and awed. Despite its crude appearance, Jenounes fought with a brutal efficiency. It was far more than just using his might to strike down foes. It would be an easy and lazy tactic to use for someone his size and strength, yet he fought with a much more polished style.

Vegeta’s plan was working perfectly. Already men cowered before the mighty Jenounes. At first they challenged him one after the first other. Now it was only a trickle of men. Only the brave souls came at the man much more slowly as the river of men was diverted to her and the others in the center of the formation.

She knew Biorr was on the other side next to Kakarot. Though she could not make it out fully, he appeared to be on par with Jenounes. She only caught a few glimpses of the great bear axe in the air now. It was stained crimson for that was the color of the day. It disappeared from her sight as quickly as it came into to it, laying waste to the foes before him now doubt.

She was broken out of her wandering by another enemy charging her. Spear in hand he tried to keep his distance from her. He was smarter than his brethren. Technically speaking that was the best option for a spear wielder against a swordswoman.  However it would not work on her.

Adrestia simply closed the gap with a few steps forward holding her shield out.  Confused as she knew he would be. The dark haired man simply grabbed his spear with both hands and tried to power it through her guard. The jab simply bounced off the rounded edge of the shield with a scrape.

It was then that Adrestia made her move. As balanced and coordinated as a **pirouette** she spun herself towards her target, blade in hand. Before he could react, she slashed through his overextended spear arm above the elbow. He glared at her for a moment as he retracted his injured arm.

Adrestia merely waited. It was already over and he just didn’t know it. There was no need for her to attack again. So she kept her guard up. You never knew what fool would try to charge you while you were distracted even for a moment.

It what seemed like an eternity but was likely only a minute the man collapsed to his knees in surprise. His face grew pale. He was confused as to why his strength was leaving him. Like so many others he had never been taught to fight, he was just conscripted and given little to no training.

“It’s your arm,” Adrestia informed him, not knowing if he could understand her. “The spot I cut in your arm holds on the biggest vessels in the body. Just one tiny cut in the just the right place and you are done.”

                He stared at her a moment, mouth agape in disbelief. He dropped his spear to the ground. Or perhaps the strength had left his body. He whispered something in Tiberian she could not make out and fell face first on the ground. Adrestia merely glanced up to ready herself for the next man.

She preferred aiming for the body’s vessels. They were quick and clean. They offered the same result with also allowing her the time to prepare for a new assault. Blades were easily caught in armor or bones in stabbing motions in the chest.

It was then that a familiar cry echoed down the line. _Shields!_ Adrestia and the rest of the squad raised their shields above their heads. The deadly downpour of bolts and arrows stormed around them. A few cries could be heard as she felt a bolt bounce off her left pauldron. Then it was over.

She looked around frantically worried for her comrades. Only to find herself settled as she saw they were all still standing. The same could not be said for the rest of the mercenaries around them. Men were felled on both sides.  Others were simply grievously wounded, trying to pry arrows out of arms, legs, hands, or whatever was unlucky enough to have been hit.

To the left of the line she caught a glimpse of the red and black tabard of Captain Turles. He had his helmet off for some reason. He was looking at the battle in front of him. As Adrestia looked out at the groups of enemies before her she knew what he caught a glimpse of. It was time. This was the moment.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Turles stood in the midst of battle. All around him men and women were fighting and dying. He could smell the unmistakable odor of flesh, blood and excrement. The wails of the dying filled the air along with groans and grunts of combatants. Yet through it all, he truly felt alive.

A brown haired young peasant approached him. He was lightly armored and poorly equipped. He wore an ill-fitting uniform that was clearly not fit for him. He only wielded a simple spear. Turles almost felt sorry for him. Sending farmers and stable boys to fight his men was so unfair. Matter of fact he thought it was downright criminal.

He let out a sigh and waved the man on. The man let out a feeble battle cry and charged at Turles. It almost hurt Turles’s ears to hear it. His voice was that of a man child whose voice had not completely matured yet.

Turles merely side stepped him and cut at his legs as he passed severing the connecting tissue. It was a move taught to him from an early age to disable his opponents. The man boy let out a shriek of pain and fell to his knees dropping his spear. He struggled to raise himself but could not due to the injury.

He looked up at Turles with tears in his eyes. Turles merely shook his head. He knew the man boy could not see his face behind his helmet. However he would not grant the boy mercy. He probably foolishly came to the battle field with dreams of glory like so many boys do. Now it all ends here.

                Turles raised his sword. The man boy was waving his arms and crying out for mercy in his native tongue. Turles sliced the boy’s throat in one quick swipe. The boy simply didn’t understand war. This was a mercy. Better to die now than be tortured for information or imprisoned. At least here it was quick.

                The man boy clutched his throat and crumpled over. His eyes went still. Yet he was not alone. Not a three feet from him another man had met his fate there too, and another behind him. The ground was stained a crimson hue with all the essence of life spilled from their bodies.

                Turles kicked the body of the man to be sure he was gone. Another poorly fitted warrior rushed him with a dull single handed axe. He honestly barely caught a glimpse of the man. Turles merely dodged his first swipe. Once he got a good look at it, the axe looked better suited for chopping firewood than battle.

He merely let out a laugh. Surely whatever noble sent this idiot to his death could have spared a little time to give him some basic training. Or at least give him a decent weapon or armor. These peons had neither. It would have given them a fighting chance at least.

                The man tripped on his former comrade and stumbled over. Turles knew it was over now. To fall in the heat of such combat is deadly.  Turles took a few measured steps with his sword and shield at the ready. He would make this quick too as much as for the man’s sake as for his own.

                As Turles raised his blade in a killing motion, he was interrupted by a familiar sound. Men cried out all around him. Some sort of impending danger was coming. Perhaps it was reinforcements or a cavalry charge. He looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then a familiar dark shadow appeared overhead.

Turles bellowed out for all to hear, “Shields!”

                The deadly rain struck all around him as he raised his own shield just in time. It struck friend and foe alike in a symphony of agony and pain. The enemy commanders were merciless. They actually loosed their arrows into their own men. Sure they were fighting mercenaries, but good men should never be wasted like that.

                Turles’s thoughts were interrupted as his helmet was stuck by a massive blow. His thoughts blurred. The world seemed to stand still for a moment.  As his mind cleared he realized that he was on one knee. He was surrounded by his own men. They appeared to be cutting down who ever came near.

                Something also impeded his vision. He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. A few seconds later he realized it was a bolt. Someone had struck him in the helmet with a crossbow. And somehow, by some miracle it had pierced his armor but did not wound him, though the tip of the bolt was dangerously close to his left eye.

                Turles rose to survey the scene. His men were holding up well despite the suicidal enemy barrage. The peasant conscripts on the enemy side, had stopped rushing them. They now only engaged his men when they had to. It looks like they too were shaken by the heartless tactics of their commanders.

                The time was ripe. Just one more push and these men would break and run. Now was the time for bold action. It was the difference between a fat gold purse and the wasting away in some dungeon.

                Turles ripped off his helmet so all around him could see his face. A commander needed some flair from time to time. The bolt traced a red line of fury that split open his brow. Tiny droplets of blood began to fall down his cheek like tears. He let out a battle cry so all eyes were on him in this moment.

Turles pointed his bloody sword and shouted, “Forward!”

                He lifted his blade above his head and ran. His men roared to life all around him. Some ripped off their helmets just as he had. Others just bounded toward the enemy with him. As one, a massive wave of steel and death crashed into the enemy.

0-0-0

The sun was high in the sky above the clouds. The ground had been soaked crimson with today’s struggle. The blood of friend and foe alike christened the earth.  Birds began to circle overhead.

The enemy forces were now in disarray. Some units were retreating while others struggled to hold their ground. On the right flank, Turles’s mercenaries had broken the militia unit before them. They hit them at just the right time and now they were in full retreat. While it’s true that they were shaken by their own commanders, it all came down to Captain Turles’s instinctual battle awareness.

                Vegeta could only smile with a big, vicious grin. This had gone extremely well today. At least twenty men had fallen to his sword already and that was before they started running away. He felt good. He felt confident. He had more than made up for being overpowered in the port.

                While he fought today all his opponents underestimated him. This was likely due to his only average height. He was hardly an imposing figure compared to the likes of Jenounes and Biorr. Even Kakarot was taller than him. Luckily he was slightly taller than Adrestia, which gave him some comfort. Still would it be too much to ask for Zelus to grant him another inch or two?

                Vegeta ran after the retreating foes. He cut down a man he caught up with. A simple cut to hamstring was all it took to seal his doom. Though it was likely not fatal. It was enough to bring him down. Now he would either be trampled to death or stabbed by one of his comrades in the mercenaries. Either way didn’t matter to him.

                He was caught up in the moment. Not even thinking about slowing down. He could practically feel the tide he was a part of rushing over the enemy. This was a crucial moment he knew. Putting the enemy into retreat was a small victory. Turning their retreat into a rout was always the real goal of a commander.

                In front he could see that none of the militia had chosen to stand and fight. It was a good thing too. A stalled offensive like they were a part of could be easily turned into encirclement if the enemy had enough time to react. It was always a risk.

A he looked right and left, he could only grin. This was just as he was taught. The enemy units to their right and left began to retreat as well, less they be flanked by the mercenaries. This was something he had heard happened in battle, but had never seen in person.

“They are running!” He called out to his squad. “Let’s drive them from the field!”

                He caught up with another man and simply stabbed to his side as he strode past the man. He was rewarded with a squeal of pain the sound of a body falling. Yet he did not look back. His focus was on what was in front of him.

                He spotted a man in a finer uniform. He was in a green and blue tabard with golden trimmings. The man was shouted as others retreated past him. He actually had a sword in his hand. An officer, Vegeta thought to himself with a smile. Just what he was looking for, hopefully by killing this one the rout would be complete.

                A few men were had fallen in behind him as his squad caught up.  Not many, there was maybe just ten of them. But these ten were giving courage to the others. The enemy retreat had slowed and they were starting to look back at the mercenaries.

                Vegeta looked to his right and left. Kakarot on the right was simply bore a determined look on his face as he stared the others down. He stopped to rub his headband for luck before resuming his fighting stance. Adrestia nodded to him in understanding. Her single braid had broken down to wild and free locks as the hours of fighting dragged on.

                Vegeta held his blade in the high stance slightly above his head. He could see the terrified looks on the militia. He could hardly blame them, his squad must have appeared to be armored demons. They were all now stained red from head to grieve, covered in the blood and gore of Marteans.

“Let’s go!” Vegeta shouted as he rushed forward. Each of his steps echoed was echoed by the war cries of his companions.

0-0-0

The skies blackened over the field of battle. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The wind picked up with the sweet smell of water to cool the body after such a long day of effort. Then as if the heavens mourned, a downpour drenched earth.

                Vegeta wiped the blood and gore off his blade. It had seen a lot of use this day. As he looked at the edge he knew it would need to be sharpened. He sheathed his blade and gazed around for a moment after his first large scale battle.

                Bodies of men littered the ground as far as the eye could see. He supposed there could be a few women out there, but it was hard to tell from his vantage point. Blood, bowels, limbs, and body fluids stained the earth into a miasma of crimson. Then the offensive smell hit him. He couldn’t quit place it. It was nothing as simple as excrement or urine. However it curled his nose just the same. He nearly gagged right then and there.

                Now that his battle rush was over, he felt tired and wet in the rain. His muscles began to protest with every move he made. His breath finally began to calm. He wanted nothing more than eat and sleep right now. He was even tempted just to clear out a spot here in this blood soaked field.

                Vegeta looked down at the officer he had killed. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet it could not have been more than ten minutes. Now that he was lying there, bled out, he seemed quite young to Vegeta. Perhaps he was their age, or a year or two younger.

                It really was his misfortune to run into Vegeta and his squad.  The man had at least some training. He could handle a blade reasonably well. However against Vegeta’s men he was a poor match. They had spent countless hours honing their techniques. Even as tired as they were in the final combat, he stood no chance of defeating any of them.

                As he looked at the black haired boy dressed in his fine clothes and his brand new sword, he realized that could have been him. Had he never been assigned to Captain Bardock, it would have been him.  He never took training seriously before he joined his squad. If a war broke out in Saiya this could have been his fate had things only gone a little differently.

                He was snapped out of his thoughts with a hand on his shoulder. He smiled a bit. Of course it was her. She was always there when they needed her. He turned to see Adrestia had taken off her helmet. Her hair flowed gloriously in the wind. A slight sheen was on her skin with little patches of red. She held out a wine skin for him.

“Thanks love,” He joked and brought it to his lips.

“You wish I was your love,” She said sweetly with a smile and drank her own wine skin.

                Kakarot was drinking as well. He was a few paces away with Jenounes and Biorr. A slightly melancholy look was on his face. However the other two appeared to be insisting that he share a drink with them. They looked content with the results today.

                The wine tasted excellent for some reason. He suspected it was because he was thirsty. His mouth had felt like a desert before now. Now the sweet spice of the local wine filled him to the brim. It felt so good drinking it he had to stop and take a breath.

“It does taste especially exquisite for some reason,” Adrestia commented.

“That’s because we won,” a familiar male voice called to the pair.

                They turned to see Captain Turles there with an almost giddy grin on his face. His armor and tabard were covered in crimson and gore. His helmet was absent. A half healed wound had split his brow. He stood with the sort of confidence of command that Vegeta had first noticed about him. Though in his element Vegeta could see why he was like that.

“Breath it in,” Turles suggested as he loudly inhaled through his nose, “That is the sweet smell of victory.”

“It smells like shit,” Vegeta pointed out half serious.

“It is shit,” Turles informed them and slapped hard Vegeta on the shoulder, “Shit, blood, flesh, piss, and whatever else your body holds all spilled out onto the earth that is what victory smells like. Trust me it’s better to be on this side of battle than the other.”

                Vegeta was simply silent. This man was basically an uneducated peasant. Vegeta wasn’t even sure he could read. Most peasants could not. Yet he just said a statement just as philosophical as any of tutors or the scholarly books he had read. Turles certainly was not a man to be underestimated.

“Tonight we feast. We will eat and drink to our hearts content. In honor of our fallen and the victory we earned today,” Turles informed them.

“Is this really the time for merry making?” Vegeta wondered as he saw wounded men being carted off.

“Of course it is, this is exactly the time for wine, song and a woman in your bed,” Turles responded as he gave Adrestia a wink.

                Adrestia glared at that. She hated when men were like that, just assuming that she should fall into bed with them. It went against not only all her teachings, but everything she felt. Not only was it socially inappropriate for her to do such things, it was wrong. Down to her bones she could feel it was not right to let just any man into her bed like that.

There was a reason women with loose morals were the outcasts of society. Despite how unladylike her current path was, there were still some lines she could not cross. If the men really needed the company of women after battles they could find it with some other willing woman or pay one. She would also have to keep a close eye on Iustitia tonight.

                A messenger in red and black arrived and said something to Turles in Tiberian. Neither could Vegeta or Adrestia spoke the language enough to follow. They could only make out a few words here and there. Turles simply nodded to them and turned his attention back to them.

“It appears I am needed at a war council soon. But I will see you all back at camp for the feast tonight.” Turles told them.

“What do you think our next move is?” Vegeta asked him.

Turles stroked his chin and commented, “I may not have read as many books as you, but I know battles. So we’ll most likely lay siege to the town next.”

“A siege…” Adrestia wondered aloud.

“Yes most wars come down to whether or not you can successfully lay a siege," Turles pointed out.


	9. Chapter 9

Kakarot sat at the table with the rest of his squad. His plate was filled with roasted pork spiced in the Tiberian fashion. It tasted so good. Every bite was tender and delicious filling his mouth with sweet juices as he ate it. His wooden cup was filled with something that called mead. He had never heard of it before but apparently Biorr brought it from home. It was made from honey he told them.

Everyone was in a good mood tonight. They had won the battle before. Though they were still a few sentries around camp, no one expected a real attack anytime soon. The Martean army was thoroughly crushed. Only whatever remained in the city was left.

The Narbian commanders spared no expense with the food stores. Pigs were roasted. Cows were bought and carved up. Chickens were grilled. Every type of food available in the region was available tonight. This was the kind of party Kakarot could get used to.

Pretty, dark haired girls from all nearby villages were brought in to serve the food. It felt like they were at a tavern. Except that food and drink was all provided to them. They were even minstrels playing and singing for their enjoyment.

“This food is great,” Kakarot commented as he took another bite.

“Every food is great with you,” Vegeta retorted with a smile.

Adrestia bit into large hunk of steak, bloody juices dripping down her chin, and said “He might be right about this though.”

                All eyes could only stare at her. She was usually so well mannered. Then again they really had no tableware to spare. The only equipment to be found was those brought with them. So she ate with her hands like the rest of them.

“What?” She wondered aloud.

“My lady perhaps you would like to wipe your face?” Iustitia reminded her and held out a bit of cloth.

“Is that it?” Adrestia laughed. “We have no forks, spoons or knives to eat properly boys and I’m too hungry not to eat. So yea I can eat like a savage **_man_** from time to time.”

“You sure you weren’t born in Caledonia?” Jenounes teased with smile as he drank his cup.

“No she is a shield maiden from the North,” Biorr corrected the man.

Vegeta just banged on the table a bit and proclaimed, “My friends that there is a true Saiyan beauty from my homeland.”

                They all laughed at that and brought their cups together in tribute. As they drank in unison, two men approached their table. They were men from Turles’s supply detail. Though one still had the look of a scarred warrior, he was as close to a clerk as Turles kept in his company. The other was a slightly younger, perhaps Vegeta’s age with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. The younger man produced a purse from his bag and dropped it on the table. The older one merely took out a ledger and started writing in it.

“What’s this?” Vegeta asked either man.

“Vegeta Squad?” the older man questioned back instead of answering.

“Yes…” Vegeta replied unsure what he was getting at.

“This is your share of the spoils,” the man informed him. “Your squad leader can divvy them out as he sees fit.”

                Kakarot opened the purse and dumped it on the table. Rings, necklaces, and stones were there. Some still covered in traces of blood. He was unsure of where it came from. **Was this how mercenaries got paid?** He wondered.

                Vegeta took one look at the pile and knew immediately where it came from. There was only one place it could have come from. There were no towns raided in the battle. No stores in some castle to be plundered. And even if there were, he was not some common bandit.

“Put them back in the purse Kakarot,” Vegeta ordered, “We’re giving them back.”

“If you don’t want them me and Biorr will take them,” Jenounes told him.

                Vegeta could only look in shock. This was something Jenounes approved of? He was a man whom Vegeta had grown to respect as a warrior in their time together. His own beliefs were being called into question. How could brave and might warriors such as him and Biorr condone such ghoulish looting of corpses?

“They are going back,” Vegeta repeated in a tone that suggested no argument.

                The mood shifted and became tense. Jenounes and Biorr traded glances. No one said a word, in the background the happy mood was still going on. However the lively music and laughter failed to permeate the tense air of the table.

“So be it,” the older man replied and gestured to his young assistant.

                The young man scooped up the purse and they both walked away. They were not going to get in the middle of a squad argument. It was not worth it. Plus there still much more work to be done.

“We are not all lords and ladies here,” Jenounes reminded Vegeta. “We don’t all have money being sent to us from home. Biorr and I have to take what we can get.”

“You take things off corpses to acquire money?” Vegeta stated more than asked.

“Gold and silver is of no use to a dead man,” Biorr pointed out to them.

                Vegeta thought for a moment about this problem. He could not have his men doing such things. He was grooming them to be proper warriors not thieves. Yet the problem of money would persist. And these men were right, unlike the rest of the squad they had to rely on the wages Turles gave them and the spoils they came across. Looks like he had no choice there was only one option left.

“Consider yourselves my vassals,” Vegeta declared with a stroke of genius.

“I don’t understand,” Jenounes responded unsure what Vegeta was getting at.

“While you are in my service no more stealing, no more looting,” He informed Jenounes. “Whatever you did before can’t be helped. But while you are in my service that behavior will cease. If you both have any need for money Adrestia will handle your requests from our funds.”

0-0-0

King Vegeta reclined in his red velvet seat in his study. While each king styled their own royal study differently, the current King Vegeta often came here to escape the pressures of the kingdom. As such in addition to the books, ancient scrolls, and maps, he made sure it was stocked with some of the finest spirits in the entire kingdom. On his ornate wooden desk was a tiny brass bell. He need only ring it and a maid would bring him anything he desired from the kitchen.

Tonight he dined on finely cut steak, served bloody with potatoes and grilled peppers. He let out a sigh as he enjoyed every bite of the delicious meat. In his cup was Champion’s Blood, one of the finest drinks. He wasn’t sure exactly how it was made; only that it was some variety of spiced wine. As he drank his fill he knew that description barely gave it justice.

A loud knock interrupted his meal. Of course, he could barely find time for a simple meal without someone needing him. Such was the burdens of royalty he supposed. These days things were ramping up more than usual. He supposed it was only natural. It was a special time.

“Enter,” he commanded after he swallowed one more bite.

                Nappa entered in his palace attire. It was more relaxed than his full battle equipment. As threats to the king in the capital were hardly the same as abroad. So he was layered in a simple brigandine and silver mail. His proud amethyst tabard with its golden royal symbol adorned it. It was more than enough to chastise a few nobles or intimidate any would be thief.

“Ah, I thought for a moment you were a messenger with some dire news or emergency,” the king commented as he gestured for Nappa to sit in front of him.

                King Vegeta rang the bell. Without needing a specific command, a maid brought Nappa his own dish with succulent steak and vegetables. A fresh cup was brought to him as well and filled with Champion’s Blood. Nappa simply nodded in gratitude and began cutting the fragrant meat.

“Who’s to say I don’t have such news?” Nappa joked with the King.

“You know this is part about ruling that my father left out. I sometimes wish one of my brothers had made it to the old fool’s death,” King Vegeta remarked as he drank.

Nappa sighed, “It was too close a call to be honest. You were the last true Saiya left. It had to be you.”

“Oh yes, how could I forget? It was the will of the gods!” the king mocked.

“Don’t say that you know the alternative,” Nappa reminded the king.

                King Vegeta grew cold at its mention. They all knew what he meant. Civil War, the words hardly did it justice. With no clear successor every bastard with a drop of Saiya blood in their veins would rise up and press their own claims. They would tear each other apart and the kingdom until one was crowned the victor.

                The last War of Succession was so long ago that no one alive was in it. Yet its memory still lived on. Vegeta the Ancient had finally passed with only a daughter to succeed him and no Crown Prince. So each and every royal and half royal with any claim began to destroy each other. They were eventually put down by Vegeta the Just, but not before an entire generation fought and died without knowing peace.

“If the boy is not careful history may well repeat itself,” the king grumbled.

“It’s not so bad is it?” Nappa reminded him. “The Queen did finally have another boy.”

“That’s true we will be publically announcing him very soon,” the king relented with a sigh. “Perhaps this will calm things down.”

“Nothing like a new prince to let people celebrate and have a feast.” Nappa pointed out. “Besides with two heirs your line is secure.”

“How is **_he_** doing anyway?” the king tried to ask nonchalantly.

“I don’t know who you mean your majesty,” Nappa replied innocently.

“You know as well as I do you have been managing to funnel them coin and supplies,” the king pointed out.

“He’s in Tiberia currently. Not sure exactly what he is doing,” Nappa informed him. “However he doesn’t appear to be headed this way anytime soon.”

“Tiberia? I could do with a vacation myself,” the king joked. “Wine, women, and the great spiced food they have there. Don’t you miss it Nappa?”

“Miss what my king?” Nappa asked unsure which he meant.

“Being young, traveling the world, bedding wenches, getting into duels,” the king mentioned with a starry eyed look.

“You seem to forget you got all the best women in our time,” Nappa reminded him.

“Well I can’t help having good looks. I got it from my father just like the boy,” the king said with a smile.

“I tend to think he favors his mother,” Nappa commented with a sly grin.

The king slammed his cup down, “By the gods he does! No wonder he gives me such fits!”

                Both men shared a laugh at that. The Queen was a fierce as she was beautiful just like any proper Saiyaness. Prince Vegeta shared more than just his dark hair with her. Now wonder he was so hard to deal with at times.

“Maybe you should have married Tea instead, or Bardock,” the king suggested dryly.

“Believe me we both tried to dissuade her,” Nappa said with a serious look. “I think she had her heart set on you however. Back then both of us thought you were unworthy of her.”

“Hmmm… You were probably right about that back then,” the king agreed.

“It worked out in the end,” Nappa reasoned. “She certainly tamed you.”

                They both erupted in laughter at that too. As his laughter died, the king had to give Nappa that one. He was once a wild, untamed young prince. The war and threat of death only emboldened that behavior. However after the end of the war and his marriage to unite the kingdom, he settled down. He of all people became a politician and statesman.

                The king flexed his muscles beneath his royal tabard. They were still hard and tough as any true battle Saiyan. They were wasted now on political squabbles and trade deals. How boring life was without war. He actually envied the little brat now. At least he could get his blood up and fight when he wanted to.

                The king looked over to one of his favorite paintings hanging on the wall. A familiar brown haired young man smiled back at him. He wore a dark blue celestial tabard, a bloodied sword in hand with the blade pointed down with like a cane. A black spiky haired man was next to him on the left, with a grimy soldier’s tabard and red sash. To his right was the unchanged goddess, still looking a beautiful as ever. Her dark hair tied in a single braid, over her wine colored tabard. On her right was a giant man with a huge crop of hair wielding a battle hammer in both hands. Below in gold only a simple word described the scene, **Victory**.

0-0-0

Queen Galata sat atop the dais with her newborn son in her arms. She had just barely recovered enough to attend the ceremony. However she knew better than anyone that appearances were everything in court. The country needed to see she was fine and that the king had another air.

She was wearing a traditional long white and gold dress. It was supposed to symbolize purity. She thought it was ridiculous since she was no maid. However there was no scoffing at tradition. It had its place in society.

She looked down her baby. His face looked so much like his father, much like her other son. However she could see some of her own features in him. He looked up and smiled at her. **So much is riding on you young one, you have a trying life ahead of you** , she thought.

A table had been brought before her so she could eat in comfort. Guests would traditionally bring in gifts to celebrate the birth of a new royal family member. The king was below amongst the other nobles in the great hall. She lacked the strength to stand just yet for long periods of time. So she waited patiently with Nappa standing guard nearby.

The king approached her table with two exquisitely robed figures behind him. They were the religious class. Of course they would be first in line. To outsiders Saiyan religion must have seemed strange. Though technically they were polytheistic and worship of any of their gods were welcomed, in reality two major factions held sway, the feminine Great Mother cult and the masculine First Warriors.

The first to approach was the Grand Priestess Celeste. She was a middle aged woman about the Queen’s age, or perhaps a bit older. Her wine colored hair was just barely visible behind her cowl, her piecing emerald eyes shone with intelligence and savvy. She wore her full regalia as expected here. Pure white robes trimmed with green and gold edges. She stopped a few paces away from the queen, bowed her head.

“My Queen, the Great Mother herself celebrates on this tremendous day,” She told the queen. “The Mother of All Saiyans has blessed the kingdom with another heir and we have brought our prince a crown symbolizing her favor.”

                Celeste turned to motion to a younger priestess. She was young, barely in her teens. Though you could tell she was already in the first signs of womanhood. She wore plain white robes of a novice in the temple and her face was veiled from view. In her hands se carried a wreath of the purest green leaves.

                She laid down the crown on the table before the queen, took a bow and stepped back with the grand priestess. The queen examined the young girl carefully. She seemed pretty behind her veil from what she could make out. Why would the grand priestess choose such a young attendant? Surely she would have needed someone more experienced to delegate certain tasks to.

                Perhaps she intended to have her service the king? The queen grit her teeth at that though. Though her body prevented her from making love to her king at the moment, her blood boiled at the idea that king would share his bed with anyone else. That was no longer a custom in this court and she’d be damned if she let it become one again.

“Who is this?” the queen inquired trying to keep her calm.

“She is my daughter your majesty,” Celeste said humbly. “Her name is Sibella.”

“Why have you brought her here?” the queen asked directly, looking at the woman.

“This is a once in a lifetime event my queen,” Celeste offered. “Surely must understand that princes are not born often. Even we at the temple wish see great moments in history.”

“Is that all?” The queen prodded further, her eyes boring into the woman.

“Well…” She began. “I was hoping Prince Vegeta might be here. She would like to see him.”

                **Oh!** The queen thought. Now she felt stupid. While the girl was too young for her husband, it made more than enough sense for her to be presented to the prince. The girl was just about the right age to start shopping for a husband. There must be a whole herd of young women out there looking for her other son.

“Unfortunately the prince is not here,” the king informed her.

“Not at his own brother’s announcement? That’s unheard of!” Celeste announce obviously shocked.

“I’m sure you were hoping to gain his favor, but he is off somewhere at the moment,” the king commented.

“The prince should marry into a warrior family!” The man behind them shouted.

                It was the Grand Priest of course. He was robed in blood red. They were traditional colors of the warrior’s cult. It was the color of life, blood, and the God of War himself, Zelus. Of course he’d prefer a warrior family; it would make his own faction much stronger.

 Not that the king opposed this, he preferred the warriors faction over the traditional goddess faction. Still this was a delicate situation. At least half of the country was made up of women, and women primarily worshipped the goddess. He could not afford to lose favor with them or the god they served. Wives tended to bend the ear of their husbands as he well knew. The king held his hand up to calm them before an argument happened once again.

“Let us focus on the prince at hand,” the king reminded everyone. “There will be time enough for talk of marriages and alliances later.”

0-0-0

Lord Atreus and Harkon were sitting in the great hall amongst all the guests. They were deep into their cups at this point in the celebration if you could call it that. Plates of roasted chicken and cups of Champion’s Blood were in front of them. If nothing else the food was always good in the great hall.

What a joke it was to them, celebrating the birth of a new prince. The reality was both wanted to be in their respective manors or their lands. Instead decorum demanded they at least make an appearance here with all the blissfully happy sheep.

“So it’s a prince huh?” Harkon commented.

“Not so bad, things could still work out for us,” Atreus pointed out as drank his wine.

A new prince could complicate their plans. It would theoretically consolidate the power of the royal house. A princess would have been much better for their future endeavors. However all was not lost. The new prince given, the right conditions could be very helpful to them.

They both fell silent as the king himself approached them.  He was dressed in his formal attire.  He bore a self-satisfied look on his face. They both were annoyed by the man but they had to pretend otherwise and he knew it. He stopped in front of their table.

“Lord Harkon, Lord Atreus, I trust you are both enjoying yourselves?” the king asked with a chipper tone.

“The food is quite tasty,” Harkon complimented.

“Isn’t it though?” the king replied. “The queen picked out the dishes. You know how she loves to arrange such things.”

“How is the queen?” Atreus asked with a feigned concern.

“She is doing well. As you know birth can be quite trying,” the king mentioned casually.

“You must be quite happy with another heir, given that your current heir is not around,” Harkon pointed out with a little malice.

The king hardened a bit said, “Yes, well hopefully this next one will listen more than Vegeta.”

“One can only hope. Without a clear heir even might dynasties can fall,” Atreus remarked.

The king bit back and reminded them, “Take care how you speak the royal line. Your own fathers and grandfathers were punished for their crimes. I would hate for you to share their fate with no heirs of your own.”

                The king walked away from them and back to the crowd. Harkon and Atreus were not amused by his comments. Of course they knew what happened to their families. Both of them should have more male relatives than they did. And that bastard and his father were the ones to shrink their family lines. He would pay someday. The House of Saiya is not immune from the same perils as the rest of them. One day it will fall.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Kakarot whistled to himself in the afternoon sun. He was in the trench line like everyone else as far as he could see. He knew they did not go one forever. The army was surrounding the city. So it sent on for miles and curved around the city.

                Turles’s mercenary company had been assigned the area in front of the main road in the city. It was pretty scenic. At least they were closed to shore. Kakarot felt sorry for those on the back half of the city with nothing but woods and hills to look at all day. Plus supplies trickled pretty easily into camp with the road being so close.

                Kakarot leaned on his shovel a bit. His part of the trench happened to be right beside the road. It was an impressive structure. It was the old imperial highway that was built during the time of the Tiberian Empire. Even after thousands of years, it still held up. The modern builders wish they could make something half as well.

                He looked over at the serene view at the coast. It was a pretty day. The sun was shining brightly, the deep blue waters of the oceans crashed along the sandy shore. Luckily the coast was nice and sandy and not rocky. Digging through rock would have been tricky.

                As it so happened, the soil he was digging through was nice, soft and black. Each time he put his shovel in the ground it moved quite easily. It was simply a matter of technique. He looked over to see Vegeta and Adrestia struggling. As fit as they may be, digging can easily wear you out if you’ve never done it. He doubted either one ever did this sort of manual labor.

A nice and cool salty breeze washed over them. Kakarot closed his eyes to enjoy the sweet scent. He had grown to love the coast in his time here. He started to whistle a nice work song as he went back at it.

Vegeta threw down his shovel in frustration and grumbled, “Damn it! I don’t know why we are doing this.”

“Surely a learned man such as yourself has heard of the term **_digging in_**? What did you think it meant?” Jenounes asked him with a smile.

“I…well…” Vegeta struggled to find his words. “I’ve never actually dug before.”

“Me either,” Adrestia admitted as she wiped the sweat off her brow.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you have never dug. It’s not generally work nobles do<” Jenounes pointed out. “You have the money to hire someone to do it for you.”  
“Serve in an army long enough though, and you’ll end up doing all sorts of jobs you’ve never done,” Biorr mentioned casually.

                Vegeta paled a little at that. His hands were calloused enough from sword practice that the work didn’t bother him. However his muscles began to cry out. His throat was parched. He little his wine skin to his lips and took a deep drink of water.  It felt good, nice and cool.

“Cheer up Vegeta, at least we’re not on latrine duty,” Jenounes mentioned.

“Thank god for that,” Adrestia agreed with the man.

                She had a hard enough time doing her own business without the others watching. She really didn’t want to think about cleaning up after these men or any others like that. The things they eat and the smells that come out of them.  She would be sure that neither she nor Iustitia was ever placed on those duties.

                A smiled crossed her face as she thought of Vegeta doing more chores. For some reason that made her happy. The prince doing common housework. The court would be in a riot if they knew. Too bad there wasn’t a scribe or some other court official here to witness it. No one would believe her back home.

“What so funny?” Vegeta asked her a little confused.

“Oh nothing, something odd just came to mind is all,” Adrestia assured him.

                Vegeta looked at her square in the eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as she struggled to keep a straight face. She was definitely up to something. Damn the minx was trouble sometimes. Still he was always glad she was there with them.

“Come one guys, just a few more feet and we’re done,” Kakarot pointed out as he lifted his shovel up and down.

Vegeta gave him a death and relented, “Fine.”

“We should sing a song,” Kakarot mentioned to no one in particular.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and muttered, “Why?”

“Because it’s fun,” Kakarot mentioned.

“I do like singing,” Adrestia agreed with a toothy grin.

                Vegeta thought about it. Adrestia was famous for singing. Her whole family was practically famous for it. Her mother in particular was quite a famous singer and dancer. Some traits were passed along to her daughters along the way.

                Kakarot on the other hand, well singing wasn’t one of his talents. He supposed the boy could carry a tune as well as anyone else. It irritated him to hear the man sing for some reason. So it was a problem.

“No singing,” Vegeta concluded after his pause.

“You’re no fun,” Adrestia teased him and stuck out her tongue like a child.

                The prince was annoyed and chose not to respond. He knew the others were watching him closely though. He needed to save face somehow. However giving in to her teasing always seemed to backfire on him, Adrestia was as crafty as his mother sometimes.

“Just get back to work,” He told her.

0-0-0

Turles joined the Vegeta Squad for drinks tonight. He liked to make rounds to all his squads one at a time. It was just something he picked as a mercenary all his life. A captain needed to be seen by the men. If he didn't show himself too often the men might get the idea that he thought that he was too good for them. The reality was a mercenary captain, while technically an officer, was treated no better than them in the eyes of household troops everywhere.

All those high and mighty men who worked directly for a lord might never had seen an actual battle in their lives. All they might have had to do was fend off a few bandits, or capture the off thief or two. Yet these men still thought they were better than battle hardened professional mercenaries. To Turles his men were worth more on the field of battle than the high and mighty household guards. At they had seen actual combat.

Turles looked around the table at all the members of the squad assembled. They were all laughed and cajoled each other. The women were singing amongst themselves. Vegeta and Kakarot traded stories and drinks with Jenounes and Biorr. They had become closer than Turles could have ever hoped.

The Vegeta Squad was quickly becoming one of his favorites. Not just because of his two champions he sent in either. For the most part they did quick and efficient work. Their fighting skills were better than he could have hoped for. Considering most rich brats barely know how to fight at all.

Turles caught a glimpse of Adrestia's enchanting smile. Then there was her. Her cheerful song filled the air with a melodious voice. Something about her just excited him on a primal level. It was pretty obvious why Vegeta kept her around, though they didn't seem to be a couple.

He had to remind himself of her age. She must have been maybe eighteen. She was just a girl really. However in she was in the prime of your youth. Perhaps there was something to nobles and their insistence on bloodlines. This woman before him was proof that of that. He bet she had a beautiful mother. Marry enough beautiful women into your family and eventually you get Adrestia. He was still a bit jealous that she spent so much time Vegeta and not him.

Vegeta turned to him and asked, "Ever think of making a banner?"

Turles raised a brow and wondered, "What for?"

"All proper units have banners," Vegeta informed him.

"We are hardly a proper military unit," Turles reminded him with a wink.

This made Jenounes and Biorr smile. They knew what he meant. They had far more freedom than those foot marching troops. Turles didn't really want to take that away from them. Any man was free to come and go in between missions. Most chose to stay and live the nomadic lifestyle.

"You could be, unless you want to continue being paid like expendable bandits," Vegeta suggested in all seriousness.

Turles was curious now. He knew that Vegeta had put his squad through morning drills. He had seen them before from regular units in armies. Other mercenary companies occasionally had banners too. At its current level, Turles didn't bother with such things. Though that didn't mean he wasn't curious. Maybe he should indulge Vegeta on this.

"What did you have in mind?" Turles asked him with a raised brow.

"It's your company you get to name them and choose their banner," Vegeta remarked. "Whatever you choose should say something about who you are and what you do."

"How about a fist?" Jenounes offered with a grin.

"A fist I like it, we kick the shit out of people," Turles agreed with a hint of malice.

"Wouldn't that be a boot?" Adrestia pointed out with sly grin.

"Right, well we beat the shit out of them then," Turles corrected.

"It's straight and to the point. I like it," Biorr commented in agreement.

"What about animals? Lots of banners have animals," Iustitia offered with a shy look.

Turles hadn't considered that. Many overly proud nobles claim to be the animals on their crest. Or embody the spirit of them at least. Still there was merit into getting men to act like beasts in combat. What kind of beast should he go with?

It had to be something that caused men's hearts to swell. It also needed to strike fear in enemies. It would also give him some glee to snub his nose at nobles. Then it came to him.

"We'll be lions," Turles proclaimed. "They are proud, strong, and hunt in groups to take down prey."

Jenounes and Biorr both grinned at the thought. So many nobles thought themselves lions. They had no idea who the true lions of the world were. The Turles Company would teach them. Real lions earned their way in the world through sword and steel.

"What are do you think of colors?" Kakarot mentioned curiously.

"We should have a red one I always liked red banners," Turles said as he drank.

"Well then the lion has to be different color that you can easily see on red," Adrestia suggested tactfully. "How about gold?"

"Nah, every minor whoreson who thinks he's great chooses a golden lion," Vegeta pointed out.

"I think silver," Turles chose heartily. "I always liked getting paid in silver."

Laughter erupted from the other two mercenary veterans. The lords and ladies seemed a bit puzzled but smiled along anyway. They knew that Turles had longer and deeper bonds with these men than they did. Surely they had private jokes as well.

"It's easily distinguishable on a red banner and can be made out from far away," Vegeta admitted as he raised his glass.

All the others joined in his toast. Though they might have been having a laugh at his expense, Turles sensed they were not. They were quite sincere. Perhaps this was a turning point for them all. He could forge a legend of his own.

Vegeta proclaimed with vigor, "To the Silver Lion Captain Turles!"

"To Turles!" They all repeated and drank together.

Thus was the birth of the Silver Lion Company. They were birthed from a night of drinking by a lordling squad. It's captain the bastard son of a nameless warrior. Yet on the battlefield there are no limits to how high they can rise.

0-0-0

Iustitia greeted the dawn with a ready smile. The gulls cried along the shore. The soft sand crushed beneath her feet. She gripped her practice sword tight as she approached the others.

They were already undergoing morning exercises. Something that she had not done for a while her shoulder was injured. At least not to the extent the others had. She felt like she was falling behind. Or at least that she'd never catch up to them. They were all so much better than her.

It had been months since the ship battle she had taken part in. She had missed the chance at fighting with the rest of them in the last pitched battle. It had greatly disappointed her. The rest of her squad achieved great success and were greatly celebrated.

She wished more than anything to be able to prove herself to them. She especially wanted the approval of Adrestia. The more time she spent with her, the more she felt like a sister to her. Not that she wanted to replace Nerine. However there was something about her she was drawn.

When she was little Iustitia's mother read her stories of the Great Mother and her beautiful warrior daughters who fought the demons of chaos. Each artist depicted them slightly differently; however they all shared similar traits. They were beautiful, fierce, and graceful. To Iustitia they all looked like Adrestia.

She didn't know how her sister felt around Lady Adrestia. However Iustitia would do anything to be just a little bit like her. She looked down at her growing body. She let out a sigh. She would likely favor her sister and mother's more slender body type. So the shapely curves were out for her. However if she practiced hard enough, perhaps she could gain just as much prowess in battle.

The others stopped training as soon as she came up on them. Each bore a different look of approval. Adrestia was the first to walk out to her. The morning sun reflected the light sheen on her skin making her appear to glow.

"Welcome my squire," Adrestia said to her. "Are you sure you are ready?"

"Of course my lady," was her reply.

Iustitia lifted the training blade and got into her stance. It was three times heavier than the normal combat weight. It was designed to build muscle and prepare the body for battle. At first she could barely lift one for more than a few minutes. However after pushing herself to the limits during her time with the squad, she was able to do that and so much more.

She raised blade high above her head to show she had no more pain. After she could make out their grins in her periphery she began her routine. It was part dance, part fighting kata, and all deadly. Her whole body spun in graceful arcs as she slashed invisible opponents and dodged mighty blows. She took one final strike as she thrust the blade forward and held her hand back for balance.

Applause greeted her as she looked at the squad. It filled her heart with joy. She had taken an important step. She was not where she wanted to be yet, but every little bit helps. She was practically giddy as the prince himself walked up to her. She nearly squealed when he looked at her in the eye.

"Not bad where did you learn that?" He asked her simply.

"It is a combination of the arts I learned from Lady Adrestia and my own family fighting style," Iustitia admitted with a slight blush.

"I can tell you almost looked like a combination of your sister and our own mighty Saiyaness here," He commented. "Keep it up. You'll forge your own path soon enough."

Vegeta left her to think about his words. The prince actually complimented her! She was unsure what that meant just yet. She could never completely forget who he was like the rest of them could. But his words meant a lot to her. Nerine I hope you are watching. I am trying my best to make you proud, she thought.

0-0-0

Vegeta walked towards the command tent at the center of the encampment. At least this is what passed for a command tent among these men. There were no banners or guards to denote where Turles slept. Just a slightly larger faded white tent that he knew held a table and a map.

He opened the flap to find Turles inside. He was eating his food with a map taking up the borders of the table. Ugh it distressed Vegeta how little discipline these men had some times. Despite their grit in battle, they would be so much more efficient if they got a little discipline from time to time.

He sighed and walked up to a slightly surprised Turles. He was bored. They had been here for months now. The army had done nothing. No battles, no climbing the walls, not even exchanged arrow fire. They were just waiting and he had to know why.

Biorr and Jenounes had tried to reassure him that this was all normal. But he was a man of action. They did nothing while their enemy simply waited behind their walls. They had plenty of men and equipment. Surely they didn't need more to claim victory.

"Why have you come here? I did not send for you," Turles informed him as he drank from his cup.

"Why do we do nothing?" Vegeta asked bluntly.

"Why?" Turles repeated with a hint of sneer. "Because my lord that is what a siege is."

"We have all that we need to take the city," Vegeta pointed out. "Why not use it?"

Turles sighed and stopped eating, "Because the assault you speak of is a waste of men and material, not to mention money."

"But this is war!" Vegeta insisted a little confused.

"Yes and in war, the one who has the most men, material and money left standing wins," Turles explained with a wave of his hand. "A siege means waiting out the enemy, starving him into submission. What you propose might be heroic, but it could cost a country both the war and its army in a single day. This is the best way to preserve your own power and weaken the enemy."

Vegeta remained silent. His own tutors often advised much the same. However being here at the front changed things. He longed for the day he could do battle with his squad again. That one glorious day on the field hadn't been nearly enough. He needed more.

He could however admit that what Turles said had made sense. Why risk everything on an all-out assault when they could just wait? With enough time the city would fall. Once their food stores run out anyway, and no one knew when that could be.

"Vegeta I know this is hard, but you are not a senior commander here. You are not a lord. You are just one of my squad leaders," Turles reminded him. "So back to your squad, train with them or whatever it is you all do together. And wait for further orders."

"Yes…Captain," Vegeta relented and turned to walk out.

"Oh and Vegeta," Turles called out behind him. "Try to find other distractions. I recommend wine and women. I know for a fact you’ve got a beautiful by your side all the time."


	11. Chapter 11

Lord Harkon dined in his manor at Vegos this evening with Lord Atreus. They wore simple semi-formal clothes meant for relaxing in their manors. An ornate candelabra stood at the center of the grand oak table. Several plates of fantastic smelling dishes were before them. Roasted duck in wine sauce was the current course.

The food was served by beautiful women, as Harkon preferred. However they merely waited behind them with drinks and plates of food as the lords ate at a proper table this night. They were still dressed proactively as their lord preferred, showing a little cleavage on each of their bosoms. It would have been considered scandalous in another other family, however Harkon did not care. He was the head of his house now, so he did what he damn well pleased.

The dining room was surrounded by grand paintings of the former battles of House Harkon. Of course their ancient founder, Feyd I, had one. This particular painting showed a young red haired man holding the head of his enemy up before his tribe, clad in golden armor. As legend had it he was a former gladiator who united his own tribe in Saiya after the fall of the Tiberian Empire.

                Looking back at the past wistfully annoyed Harkon but he knew that such things were important. He knew exactly why his family commissioned such things. It is to be reminded of where they had come from. Also it served to pass on the knowledge to the future generations.

                They gathered here as every noble had, to celebrate the birth of the new prince such as it was. Or at least that’s what everyone said they were doing. This gathering of nobles was an excellent opportunity to do more than that. Just as the money lenders and the brothel keepers this many nobles in one place was good for business. Their meal was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was practically a full blown festival out in the capital lately; it went on much longer than formal night at the castle.

“Enter,” Harkon called out to whoever was there.

                In walked a figure cloaked in darkness. He stopped a respectful distance in front of the pair and kneeled. In the light they could make out some details of the man’s clothing. All seemed to have been dyed black or darkened to aid in his secrecy down to his armor and boots.

“I’m sorry my dears, give us a little privacy,” Harkon ordered. The women left quickly and quietly without protest.

“Well?” Harkon inquired.

“I apologize my lord. I have failed,” the man informed him with his head still bowed.

Harkon a bit angrily ordered, “Rise.”

                The man stood and removed his cowl. His face not obscured, was only slightly lined with age. His dark hair was beginning to turn grey. He wore a neutral look on his face. The gaze of a killer shone in his dark eyes.

“I thought you Disciples of Erebus always got your target?” Atreus chided in his seat.  “It seems your legend is a bit exaggerated.”

“Well what happened?” Harkon asked his tone serious despite his bored façade.

The man clenched his fist slightly and with a controlled tone reported, “His companions got in my way at the last moment.”

“Surely, you can handle a few novices,” Atreus commented as he drank.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but that woman...” the man trailed off.

“What woman?” Harkon asked with a raised brow.

“Adrestia Blacksteel, her skills are far beyond what I anticipated,” The man admitted as he grit his teeth.

Atreus was shocked and said “Really?”

“Believe no one was more surprised than me,” The man admitted honestly.

                The lords were quiet for a moment. This was unexpected to both of them. They had gone through the trouble of sending a veteran assassin of taking care of things. They had no doubts the prince’s little squad had some experience. However no one could have predicted this.

                If he was being honest with himself Harkon fully expected the tales of Adrestia to be exaggerated. Tales of heroes often are. They made giants of ordinary men. Some were simply lucky enough to strike the final blow, or just be at the right place at the right time. Yet the peasants and ignorant lords often called it divine blessings or some other such nonsense as if it was fated to be so.

“Did anyone see your face?” Harkon asked the man.

“No, my mask concealed my identity the whole time,” the man informed them.

“Well at least there is that,” Atreus commented.

“Very well, you may go for now, but be prepared to answer our call again,” Harkon commanded.

“As you wish,” The man told him, and then departed.

“Don’t worry, there will be plenty more opportunities,” Harkon commented. He clapped his hands and the servants returned.

“Indeed,” Atreus agreed.

                So long as the prince remained away from court, their power base could only grow. The nobles liked stability. An absentee prince hardly created such. What it did create people’s mind was a blank canvas. Something which with the right paint, they could create whatever they wanted out of it.

                Harkon could only grin at the thought. He understood the prince’s motivation to leave court. It was honestly trying just to be there at times. Harkon almost felt sorry for the man. In pursuing his own goals, the prince left them with plenty of opportunity.

“I’ll have to get in touch with a few eastern contacts,” Harkon mentioned with a sly grin, “The prince won’t be so lucky next time.”

“What shall we do in the meantime?” Atreus asked with cautious optimism.

“Rally others to our cause. There is more discontent in the kingdom than first appears. More houses than just ours have been wronged by the royal family,” Harkon pointed out.

“True enough and the celebration of the new prince just so happened to be great timing,” Atreus agreed with a slight grin.

0-0-0

Zarbon stepped off his boat. His boots squished beneath his feet as he made landfall. The waves rushed in around him, slightly wetting his uniform. His sword clung to his belt, still sheathed as it was not a combat landing. The shoreline was fairly barren with a simple sandy beach to land on with a small village of a few hundred in the distance.

He could see the advance team already at work on the shoreline. Hundreds of soldiers dotted the shore preparing for their brothers to land. Tents were going up and barriers were being erected. Their commander was an old veteran experienced in such matters. Zarbon had complete faith in him.

This was the kind of landing he wanted. He was able to land his forces without drawing attention to themselves. Had they made their way to a larger port in Old Tiberia they would have been discovered. In addition this place was only a short march from the Old Imperial Road.

                It sure felt good to be off the ship. He and his men had been on it for weeks now. It felt exceedingly good to be on terra firma again. He stretched his muscles as he walked away from the waves. Ships could be so cramped and crowded.

He gazed around to see hundreds of smaller vessels ferry his men to from the larger naval vessels in deeper water. Things were going smoothly. He’d have to commend the admiral later on. This was exactly where they planned to make landfall.

A moderately dressed old man approached him. He had saggy leather skin and dark hair. His aura had the faint scent of fish and salt. He was a local that was sure. However Zarbon had no idea why he came.

“General Zarbon,” The old man said with a bow. “I am headman of the humble village nearby, my name is Marco.”

“Yes what of it?” Zarbon inquired a little annoyed this man was even here.

“It’s just that…” the old man stammered. “We were not exactly…expecting…your arrival.”

Zarbon rolled his eyes and pointed out, “That is the point of a surprise landing.”

“I suppose it is,” the old man conceded. “Why are you here General?”

                Zarbon eyed the man. He looked calm on the outside. However as he locked eyes onto the man he could only avert his gaze. Lucky for him, the emperor did not send him to conquer little fishing villages.

“I don’t need to tell you,” Zarbon answered simply. “Worry not though; we are just using this area as a staging ground. The army will march further inland once we have organized ourselves.

“Very good my lord,” the old man said with another bow. “Please feel free to come to village for some refreshment before you continue your campaign. We are a small village but we offer what we can.”

“Very well,” Zarbon agreed.

                The old fool could hardly have stopped them had he chosen to take all the women and valuable had they desired. It would surely not be the first time such a thing has happened. Armies on the march were known for doing so and worse. Little villages like the one nearby were lucky to survive when serious wars broke out.

                They were practically doing him a favor. By using this as a staging for his operation, money and goods would pour into his little village practically overnight. His soldiers would need many things and could afford to pay in good silver for them. Or if he so chose he could also take them with swords.

                A messenger appeared before him. His uniform was slightly dirty and blew slightly in the breeze. He was from the advanced party. They had scouted out the area already no doubt. Still he needed progress reports from all commanders.

“Report Sir!” the messenger said with a salute.

Zarbon nodded his head in acknowledgement and replied, “Go ahead.”

“Centurion Cui has located the Old Imperial Road,” the man informed him. “He has also located a suitable spot nearby for the main army camp.”

“As I expected,” Zarbon remarked. “Tell the Centurion continue with his preparations. We need to prepare to unload all the provisions and created a supply line before we set off.”

“Yes my lord,” The messenger acknowledged and rode off.

                Zarbon looked wistfully at the few houses in the distance. He wondered what kind of accommodations he could find there. Probably nothing as good as the bedding he brought with him. Still perhaps he could find a woman or two to keep him company. He did love exotic beauties after all.

                He looked back to see, men, horses, and weapons being unloaded efficiently. This was one of the reasons he loved the empire. It was exceedingly efficient. The rest of the world may have forgotten but they had the best soldiers in the world in the empire. He looked forward to reminding the savages that there was a reason the entire world belonged to Tiber at one point or another.

                Zarbon wanted to get this campaign underway. The quicker he claimed a victory. The more his star would rise back home. Perhaps he could finally be the general who brought back all the lost provinces.

                Many had dreamed such a thing and few had even made modest gains. None however had been able to take back the old heartland of Tiberia. All this changed under his master. For the first time in hundreds of years the Empire was united. Their power was unchallenged at home, which meant that they had the very real possibility of reuniting with the **_all_** the former provinces.

                This campaign would just be a stepping stone. If Zarbon played his hands right he would lead it all. He could even become Frieza’s heir should he prove himself on the battlefield. Nothing was impossible in victory. Any soldier worth his salt knew that.

0-0-0

Turles walked into the Army Headquarters. It was filled with other captains and high ranking officers of both the mercenary groups and regular soldiers of Narbo. They were all chatting amongst themselves in Tiberian. None of them paid any attention to him.

                To his men he was important. To the army as a whole he made up one small part of the huge forces assembled here. He took an empty chair in the corner and waited. The chatter died down as an older lord appeared in an immaculate red and black tabard. In the center was his personal crest rather than the city one. A large golden elephant roared on it.

                Turles recognized him immediately. He had never actually spoken to him outside of a handful of times. However there was no mistaking that crest. It was Lord Barco, Supreme Commander of their assembled forces.

“Good morning men, I am sure you are all wondering why I called you here. Especially since we are waging a successful siege of the city already,” He told them.

                Turles wondered that himself. While he had no idea of the naval situation, his own sector was secure. The Pearl Gate by the seal he guarded had not had so much a grain of wheat go inside. It seemed only a matter of time before they ran out of food.

“I am here to tell you that our spies report that a relief army is on its way here,” Barco told them.

“Impossible!” One officer shouted in disbelief.

“Where is such a force coming from?” Another officer asked. “Another city? Or could it be Occidena?”

 Barco held up his hand to silence them, and then went on, “We don’t know who they are just yet. But we do know they numbers are large enough to force us to abandon the siege. So we will have to launch an assault on Martea itself before it arrives.”

                The men were silent at the last part. Turles swore he could hear the crickets outside, it was so quiet. He knew what they were thinking. Attacking the city now carried a great risk. Even with their numbers dwindled by their loss on the battlefield, the Marteans could hold off any assault with less men given the size and scope of the city walls.

“I understand your hesitation but this is the only way,” He told them all. “The fate of two cities will be decided on this battle men make no mistake about it. If we do not take those walls our siege will be broken anyway.”

                The men grumbled amongst themselves now. Like Turles most of them had been coasting with the siege. Some had even brought their wives and mistresses out from Narbo. Now they were going to have to go back to active combat and fight a fierce battle.

                Turles was not looking forward to this. Climbing the walls during a siege was one of the most dangerous jobs an army could get. They always made mercenaries do it as well. Mercenaries like him were considered to be expendable.

“We shall take tomorrow to prepare all our ground forces,” Barco ordered them. “One the following morning we attack.”

0-0-0

It was Vegeta’s turn to cook. It was a skill admittedly he wasn’t very good at. He could cook simply things. Mostly he could make sure that the meat he cooked would not make him sick. However cooking for others simply wasn’t in his retinue let alone making it taste good.

                Tonight he roasted three chickens for his squad. It was simply enough. He bought them at the market, plucked them, and cleaned them. He a spit big enough to fit three of them just like his survival training had taught him. He had low fire of mostly coals going so they would cook evenly.

                Over his shoulder Adrestia was inspected his work. He hated being watched. But she insisted. Something about no longer being able to tolerate the “bland” food he cooked on his turn. She was determined for him to get it right.

“That’s good now,” She complimented as she handed him a jar and a ladle. “Now cover them with this.”

“What is it?” Vegeta asked.

“It’s an oil they make here out of olives, baste the chicken in it as you cook them and they taste really yummy,” Adrestia told him with a smile.

“Who cares about yummy?” Vegeta teased.

“We all care!” Adrestia shouted and smacked him on the head. “We would all prefer **_edible_** food when it’s your turn to cook.”

“My food is edible,” Vegeta protested with a huff.

“Hardly, consider yourself my kitchen slave until you learn to do things properly,” Adrestia claimed as she stomped her foot denoting no argument.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Vegeta mocked lecherously. “It might be fun to play along, mistress ** _._** ”

Adrestia’s cheeks turned red and she hit him again shouting, “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

                Vegeta felt embarrassed as he heard the laughs erupt around him. He did not like making a scene. However it was fun to tease Adrestia. It reminded him of old times with Captain Bardock.

                He did as Adrestia told him. He noted it was more than just oil that he applied. There appeared to be spices in the mixture too. He sniffed the bottle and the sweet aroma of herbs and spices filled him.

“What else is in here?” He asked her.

“A few spices, the local one called rosemary. You’ve had it before,” She mentioned as she looked up to remember what else was in there. “There is also a foreign one I wanted to try called powdered chili. It’s the red one in there. There is also a red pepper that I’ve never seen before in there.”

“You found these at the market?” Vegeta inquired as he noted the pleasant scent the meat gave off as he added it.

“Yes,” Adrestia told him. “We should consider having our traders import some when we go home.”

“My, my isn’t this cozy?” A male voice interrupted them.

                They turned to see Captain Turles behind them. The rest of Vegeta’s squad was behind him pretending not to ease drop. However Vegeta knew they all had listened in. He would ignore it for now. The captain had a serious look on his face.

“Much as it pains me to interrupt your domestic bliss, I have some news,” Turles informed them.

                It must have been important then. Though Captain Turles did hang around their squad more these days, for official communication he often used messengers. Something must have occurred at the officer’s meeting he had just attended. Vegeta could not guess as to what though.

“Is there anything your beautiful companion can’t do?” Turles commented with a smile.

“She can’t take criticism apparently,” Vegeta joked with a devilish tone.

Turles laughed, “I suppose not but she’s not the only one.”

“What happened?” Adrestia queried ignoring their ribbing.

“We’re preparing to assault the walls in two days,” Turles recounted to them.

“Why now? We’ve been sitting here for so long.” Vegeta wondered.

“Apparently some relief army is showing up so now the siege is on a time table,” Turles told them.

“Alright finally some action,” Vegeta commented then turned the chickens.

“I wouldn’t be so joyful, this isn’t going to be a picnic,” Turles cautioned. “Assaulting fortified walls are one the most dangerous things you can do in a war.”

“I’m not scared,” Vegeta boasted as Adrestia sighed.

“Say that to me if you make it through tomorrow,” Turles said and shrugged. “Even Baligant was scared when he had to rush up the ramparts.”

                Vegeta could only stand there with his mouth agape. **Turles knew poetry.** **How could this be?** He wondered. Even educated nobles might not have referenced the epic poem of the farmer turned soldier this well.

“How could **_you_** know that?” Adrestia asked for him.

“You nobles always think you are the only one who go to plays or read. Well you aren’t. Even someone who spends most of his time away from Saiya like me knows a thing or two about Saiyan poetry,” Turles shared with them. “If I must ease your doubts then listen to this:

I fear rushing up the ramparts,

I fear arrows raining down upon me from the heavens,

I fear clashing with the men upon the other side,

But most of all I fear looking once more upon my own reflection and seeing a beast of battle staring back at me instead of a man.”

“You surprise me yet again,” Vegeta admitted.

“Eh it’s just a few flowery lines, though a little poetry goes a long way with women,” Turles reminded him.

“You don’t say,” Vegeta noted with a sly look.

“Not all women,” Adrestia remarked as she crossed her arms.

“It’s a numbers game, some you win, some you lose,” Turles commented and shrugged. “Now cook that chicken it smells good. You can play with your wifey later.”


	12. Chapter 12

It was twilight just after the evening meal. The room was light lightly by two lamps. There was one for each woman in the tent on a stand beside the cots. At the foot of the cots were chests for personal belongings. Smoke lazily drifted as purifying incense was burned to wipe away the smell of sweat and grime the rest of the tents around them had.

 Adrestia held up a mirror by her cot. It was probably the most valuable thing she had with her on this trip. It was made of ornately carved ivory with little roses in it. Her grandmother had given it to her as a girl; she always kept it with her to remind her of home. 

She and Iustitia shared this small tent next to the rest of the squad. They absolutely refused to be put up with the camp whores and servants for obvious reasons. Instead they brought a cozy two man tent. It was spacious enough to hold their belongings and could still be packed up quickly. 

Adrestia brushed her long, dark tresses. The boys could be dirty all they wanted, but as a girl she preferred proper hygiene for several reasons. She made sure to scrub the smell of sweat and worse off her skin every day. A smile crossed her face as she remembered simpler times with the squad. 

Kakarot had tried to bathe with her and Nerine. Varro trying to peek at them naked. Vegeta and Captain Bardock scolding Kakarot on proper hygiene and social etiquette of baths. Adrestia let out a heartbroken laugh. She missed them all terribly at times. A small tear streaked down her cheek. 

Iustitia picked up on this immediately and went to her side. Her lady got like this sometimes especially when thinking about her old comrades. They were just names mentioned in letters to her, but to her lady they were comrades. People she shared meals, laughs, and trained with. She was just beginning to understand that with her time in the squad.  

“Are you thinking about my sister?” Iustitia asked. 

“Yes, her and all the others we lost out there,” Adrestia admitted. 

“What were they like?” Iustitia prodded hoping that talking about it would help her lady.

 “Captain Bardock was like a second father to me in many ways. I spent more time with him in the last few years than my actual father. And though he was a strict teacher, he cared about making us all better warriors. He never judged me or Nerine for staying and not getting married right away. He was just the Captain we needed,” Adrestia recounted with a smile, “As for looks. Well he looks a lot like Kakarot only he had a few more scars on his face. Plus he had a more analytical mind.” 

“A sharper Kakarot? That would be a dangerous combination.”  Iustitia giggled with delight.

 “You could certainly see why he rose to the rank he did.” Adrestia agreed with fond look. “Most lords are born so. Very few come from the lower classes and rise to his position. But then again the last Saiyan War was so disastrous to the noble classes you could see why some positions had to be filled.” 

“I heard Captain Bardock was promoted for bravery and gallant action,” Iustitia mentioned.

“I heard the same; unfortunately the Captain never really went into details about his wartime. So your guess is as good as mine about that. Still making the leap to nobility was quite a boon for his family I imagine,” Adrestia remarked.

“Have you met his other son?” Iustitia questioned, having only heard recently about him.

“Raditz? Unfortunately I have,” Adrestia remarked, “Fortunately he is older than us so he was assigned to a different squad when he joined the order.”

“Is there something wrong with him?” Iustitia wondered.

“Well not really wrong, he is…” Adrestia began, thinking of how to best put into words. “He is much more like the old prince that Nerine mentioned in her letters. He was probably just a boy when he was elevated to nobility so now he thinks he has a right to every pretty girl he comes across.”

“I know the type you mean,” Iustitia said, “It’s a shame he is so different from his brother.”

”The world needs a few more nobles like him, or perhaps the man our prince is becoming as well,” Adrestia mentioned.

“What do you mean becoming?” Iustitia asked unsure what she meant by that comment.

Adrestia stroked her chin and smiled. She looked at her young charge now. Her hair was down and her eyes shone innocently in the dark lamplight. In this moment her youth really showed. She forgot sometimes that the girl was at least four years younger than her. So there were still some things that were beyond her understanding.

“It’s still too early to tell. In some ways he is different, in others he is much the same. Still he is trying and that is all that I can ask of him for now,” Adrestia commented cryptically.

                Vegeta had come a long way. She would still like him to progress further. Unfortunately he still did enjoy the company of pretty random women. Though not as frequently as he once did. These days took training more seriously and had thrown himself into the art of combat with much greater vigor. Still she promised the queen she’d look after him as best she could.

                Adrestia looked at her scars in the mirror. Four ugly white lines marred her otherwise beautiful face. If she could not be a decent bride, then this would be her life. Serving the queen as much as possible and looking out for her nation’s next ruler. There was still purpose in her life even if fate had taken much from her already.

0-0-0

Kakarot was drenched. The sky opened up just before the orders to march had been heard. At first it was a blessing. It felt good to be cooled down from the blistering heat. Now it was making him cold and wet with every step he took.

The earth around him began to swell as it became mud. He could fell the wetness in his innermost skin now. The rain had finally pierced his several layers of armor to his undergarments. He tried not to let it bother him but being cold and wet was one of the worst feelings for him.

Their squad was in the first rank. They had the honor and privilege to lead the charge with the rest of the rank. It was dangerous but only the most trusted units were in the first rank. For if the first rank was to waiver or break than the rest of the men behind them would break too. So only the best units were placed here.

To his left was Vegeta. Kakarot could tell he was agitated. His stance was a bit tighter as he walked. His shoulders though covered in pauldrons were tense. His mouth was shut and his face was scowled. He always got this way when he angry or anxious about something. Though the prince would never admit it, Kakarot knew him well enough to tell. He also knew never to point it out to the prince. He really hated that.

On his right the blue armored blonde giant Biorr. The man was a bit strange to Kakarot. He supposed he seemed strange to Biorr. He came from a completely different world than Kakarot. For all its differences, Tiberia was close enough to Saiya to at least look similar. However when Biorr described his home it seemed so different.  Vast fields of snow for many months and great woods. Fair Haired maidens with creamy skin and big bosoms were there that served honeyed alcohol.

He and the rest of Vegeta squad were on the right flank of the Silver Lion Company. Thankfully they were not taking the gate with the battering ram, that task was assigned to another company. Kakarot glanced over as around thirty men pushed the ram along the coastal road. From the look of the high gate he did not like their odds. Even if the doors were smashed there was no guarantee it did not have a portcullis. A wealthy coastal city like Martea should easily be able to afford one.

The center of the company pushed a large siege tower towards their section of the wall. Inside it were a small unit of archers and mercenaries from another company. Kakarot could not remember which ones. There were so many here on the battlefield today.

He just knew that that plan was that the Silver Lions would push the tower and bring the ladders. When close enough the ramp would drop and the ladders would be hoisted. Men would then make their way over the walls and take the gatehouse. Thus they would open the gate and clear a path for the army to take the city.

Or that is what was planned at least. He knew by know things hardly went exactly as planned. It was more of a best case scenario than actual plan. His father always reminded him that good soldiers are adaptable as are good plans in warfare.

He saw a white arrow in the ground about ten paces ahead of them. Kakarot knew what that meant. He gave his shield one last squeeze. It would have to hold up today. As they caught up to the marker the call rang out across the line.

“Shields!” someone cried.

                Kakarot instinctively held his at an angle that protected his vitals. He kept walking forward though. He heard familiar thuds around them. In nearly the same instant men cried and groaned around him as deadly bolts and arrows found their mark. He knew that was only the first volley now that they were in arrow range.

                He glanced left and right quickly. Vegeta had an arrow stuck in his shield, as did Adrestia to his left. No major injuries to his squad though. That was good. There was a lot of battle left in the day however.

                Kakarot could make out the figures atop the wall now. Some wore armor and uniforms. Others just looked dressed in plain clothes with mismatched pieces of armor or no armor. They all looked slightly dirty and thin from the angle he could see.

                As he looked up, fire streaked across the sky. He was surprised anything could burn in this downpour, but there it was. It looked like stars falling to earth. Luckily it crashed into the Earth behind his company. He could only imagine what damage one the great fireballs would do if it hit them.

“Shoot the bastards!” Someone yelled behind them.

                Arrows flew upwards from the archers behind the Silver Lions. It was quickly answered back by another volley, this one less concentrated. Only some hit their shields, others flew behind their ranks. Soon the sky darkened as both sides filled the air with deadly bolts and arrows.

“This is insane,” Vegeta commented as a second arrow lodged into his shield.

“This is definitely not how I pictured a siege would be,” Kakarot agreed with him.

“Archers,” Vegeta grumbled, “I hate fucking archers!”

                Kakarot said nothing as he walked with Vegeta. He knew it was a common complaint among elite knights. Not only were elite knights all high ranking nobles, they were supposed to be more important than common foot soldiers. They were extolled for their mastery of battle and their bravery in fighting a man that could see his end coming. Archers fought at distances. Just about anyone with sufficient arm strength could wield a bow or crossbow and shoot their enemies that way.

                He looked behind him could not deny their effectiveness however. Scores of men in just his field of vision alone lay upon the field of battle. Some men were too wounded to stand or walk. Others were clearly dead with multiple arrows and bolts in their bodies at vital points. The ground was painted a dark, sickly red around them. Arrows and bolts littered the field as far back as the trench line.

                Kakarot had to stop the shaking in his hand by gripping his blade a bit tighter. This is what battle was, he reminded himself. Not everyone was going to make it out of here. Though attacking the giant wall of stone ahead seemed folly at the moment.

                A cheer rang out across the field. Their movements were finally stopped. The siege tower had reached its destination and the ramp was lowered. The ladders were propped up. This was it and everyone knew it.

“Stay together,” Vegeta reminded them as he looked upwards. “Things are going to get very confusing up there. Just remember to stick with each other and we will make it out of here.”

0-0-0

Vegeta stepped over the ledge to the steady stone floor of the huge wall. He drew his sword from his sheath and assumed a fighting stance. He took a few steps from the ladder and waited. He had to make sure the rest of his squad made it up.

                There was barely enough room for three men to stand abreast at the top. Still it was enough of a deterrent. The climb alone had sapped some of his strength. Now he had to face whatever came out of the guardhouse. He doubted they had enough men left to line the walls completely.

Around him groups of two or three men were fighting, punching, stabbing and clubbing. The occasional scream cried out. Loud thuds onto metal sounded out and accompanied by softer ones and sickening crunching sounds.  Cries and moans in different languages could be heard.

 He was glad to be off the ladder. The climb up was not something he wished to repeat anytime soon. The whole time he was fired at by arrows that barely missed him. Other ladders were thrown down not far from him. And on top of that he had little say in what happened until he reached the top.

                Still he had insisted he go first. As leader of the squad he felt it was his duty to go first and secure things for his comrades. Besides, a part of him was deathly afraid of their ladder being pushed over and all of them falling to their deaths before having a chance to put up a fight.

                He heard a shout in Tiberian and looked to his right. A defender was running towards him in a dirty tabard. He could not make out the crest that was supposed to be there in the center. Vegeta braced himself for combat.

As the man closed the distance he swung at Vegeta with a wooden club. The blow actually made his hand hurt slightly under the shield. Vegeta stabbed his sword into the defender like the strike of a snake. The movement was quick, fluid and over before the man had a chance to react. The dark haired man cried out and held his throat as he collapsed. Blood slowly flowed onto his soiled crest.

Another in a similarly dirty uniform took his place. The man’s eyes were mad with fury as he raised his axe. He didn’t really have time for a lengthy fight. Instead Vegeta focused behind the man to the guardhouse above the gate. That was their objective.

“Damn that was a hell of a climb,” Adrestia said behind him.

                Vegeta smiled grimly. This was it. They were dead now. His mighty battle maiden had joined him. He could always count on her and Kakarot when things got tough.

“Should take a few pounds off your fat ass,” Vegeta joked with a puckish grin as he kicked the defender.

“My ass is shapely and perfect as you well know,” Adrestia replied angrily as she took up a position beside him.

“How could I know I’ve never seen it,” Vegeta only half joked, more implied.

 Adrestia slapped him on the arm and claimed, “I’m not falling for that one. I’ll show Kakarot before I show you.”

“I didn’t think he was your type,” Vegeta commented as two more men appeared from the guardhouse.

“Let me worry about who is and is not my type,” Adrestia mentioned as she cut he foe down.                 

                They both heard a soft thud behind them. They were not alone anymore but they knew who it was. Hard to miss the order with which one climbs. Still Adrestia chose it because she knew Kakarot would not try to stare at her backside the whole time. Or pinch it or do anything else. She trusted Vegeta, but he still had a perverted side to him.

“You guys sure this is what is important right now?” Kakarot mentioned behind them.

“Kakarot, when are you going to learn that talking about shapely asses or large breasts is always important,” Vegeta reminded him.

Kakarot stoked his chin and pointed ahead, “Maybe we should just focus on taking that instead.”

                Several guards now poured out of the guardhouse. A few ranks deep as they ran toward them. Each had a determined look on his face. They were armed with clubs, spears and axes. A few even had shields.

“Okay fine, be that way,” Vegeta relented. “You do have a nice ass now let’s get to it.”

“Thank you,” Adrestia responded and held up her sword “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll consider you someday.”

                Vegeta rolled his eyes and got into a stance. The three of them now stood abreast and started walking together towards the men on their way. Their steps were in unison with a silent cadence. All their drills over the years had paid off. Now it was time to reap the fruit of their efforts.

                Their enemies clashed into their wall they formed. A few quick thrust and slashes though and three men lay on the ground. Three more ran at them and were quickly halted. Unable to push them back the men backed up and tried again only run into a wall of troops solid as stone. Two more were felled while the third ran back.

“What would you like us to do Vegeta?” Jenounes called out behind him.

                He and Biorr had finished their climb as well. The big men would be followed by others. Thiers was only the first rank. If others survived to make it this far, they would be next up the ladders. So he needed to push on.

                Vegeta didn’t turn around to answer him. He could hardly do that. All his focus needed to be in front. The guardhouse was all that mattered. And at least twenty more men stood between them and it.

“Cover our rear as we advance to the objective,” Vegeta ordered


	13. Chapter 13

The rain had not let up in the least since the start of battle nearly two hours ago. The ground was now slick with water, blood, entrails and bodily fluids. A sickening smell of flesh pervaded the air. Thunder flashed through the black clouds mimicking the struggle below them.

                Swords clashed. Shields splintered. Axes bit flesh and spears found their mark. Despite the ferocious fighting and dreadful weather, the battle raged on. Only the dead and dying quit the fray, as the life and death struggle continued atop the high walls of the city.

                Vegeta and his squad were only in one small section of the huge wall. Yet they could hear the sound of war all around. Battles raged on all across the city as they struggled to gain a foothold hear. None could tell how things were going, only that there were more enemies before them and they had not reached their goal yet.

                Vegeta was now only maybe a few dozen paces from the guardhouse above the gate now. Surely they had to be running out of men by now. His arms felt numb. His legs ached with every step. Every fiber of his being cried out and wanted him to simply lay down his burdens. But he ignored them all. The mission was all that mattered.

                He fixed his eyes on the notched wooden door leading up the ramp to the guardhouse. Inside laid his prize the great levers and wheels which controlled the gate. Would he even have enough strength left to lift it once inside? He wondered. He squeezed a few numb fingers soaked to the bone in cold rain and blood.

                He spit to the ground in defiance of his exhaustion. Tired or not, he would force his aching body along somehow. He grinned through cracked lips and bloody teeth. Beside him he heard the pants of his companions. **Not Yet!** He thought. He needed to push his body just once more.

                His musing was interrupted by the creaking of the door. Through it appeared a huge armored figure. He stood at least as tall as Jenounes and was covered in what appeared to be full plate. In his hands was a giant two handed flail.

Vegeta stopped in his tracks and cursed, “Fuck!”

Adrestia laughed grimly and agreed, “I second that.”

“Look at it this way, there can’t be more where he came from,” Kakarot reasoned with a shrug.

“True enough,” Adrestia concurred. “So do we have anything resembling a plan? Because these swords aren’t going to do much against full plate like he has on.”

“Okay I got one,” Vegeta claimed. “Adrestia you need to undress.”

“What? Why?” Adrestia questioned skeptically.

“You show him your awesome tits, then Kakarot and I will cut him down,” Vegeta chuckled.

                Kakarot blushed a bit as he thought about it. Adrestia turned red then got angry scowl on her face. Vegeta smiled through parched lips. Then a loud smack hit his helmet from behind.

“Be serious would you,” Adrestia scolded him.

“I am serious. We need a distraction,” Vegeta maintained.

“How do you know he likes girls?” Adrestia countered. “Maybe you should show him your ass instead.”

“I suppose it’s possible however it’s more likely he’ll want your shapely body,” Vegeta insisted.

“So we need a distraction? How about I just rush him?” Kakarot suggested hoping to steer the conversation back on track.

“Rush him?” Vegeta repeated. “That’s what you do when a plan fails. Are you even trying to think of a plan?”

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Adrestia agreed. “Someone as big as he is, is probably used to opponents trying to keep their distance.”

“New plan,” Vegeta concluded. “Kakarot you and I will run interference and Adrestia you stab him when he is distracted.”  
“Why me?” Adrestia wondered.

“I’m gambling on the fact that he may not hit a woman,” Vegeta reasoned with a shrug.

Kakarot spun his blade in his hand and shouted, “Here goes nothing!”

                He sprinted off from the group without another word. Vegeta sighed. Adrestia only laughed. This was so much like Kakarot. Vegeta felt almost nostalgic seeing it. He shared a look with Adrestia and ran off himself.

                Vegeta caught up with Kakarot and the giant in a few quick strides. Kakarot was already engaged him. He expertly sidestepped a blow by the spiked ball on the end of the giant flail. He thrust his sword and aimed for the man’s weak spots.

                The giant was quicker than he looked. He dodged just in time and lifted his mighty weapon in attack stance once more. He turned his helmet to the side to keep an eye on Vegeta. The man was no fool.

                Vegeta pulled a throwing knife from a pouch on his belt and threw it. It struck the full hem of the man on the side with a clang. It did no damage but it let his opponent know he was a threat. As the helm turned towards him, Vegeta raised his blade above his head and readied his shield. He closed the gap with his enemy never once taking his eyes off the end of the flail.

                Instead of attacking head on, the man surprised Vegeta. He jabbed the bottom end of the flail into Vegeta’s midsection.  The force of blow was centered on its tip and felt like it dug into his insides. Before Kakarot could react, or help, the spiked end was already being swung full force and smashed into Kakarot’s helmet with a loud boom.

                He crumpled to the floor and dropped his blade. That’s how Vegeta knew it was serious. Kakarot never dropped it like that. Blood began to ooze from his helmet in little droplets. He didn’t even open his eyes.

                Vegeta cursed silently and wished he had not climbed up that enormous wall. He would give anything to be at full strength taking on this beast. He heard mocking laughter from the giant. Vegeta gritted his teeth and willed his body to move, despite all his instincts telling him to run.

                He dropped his shield on the ground with a thud and gripped the blade in both hands. He leapt towards the man and barely dodged another thrust as it grazed him hard. With all the strength he could must he swung the hilt with all his might and slammed the cross guard into the helm with a bang.

                The giant howled and hobbled for a moment. A moment all they needed however. For quick as a bird Adrestia flew in and cut behind his enormous right knee. A cry split the sky as the man fell to one knee.

                Adrestia dove into action to deliver the final blow only to be caught once more by his unnatural speed. He grabbed her by the tabard and slammed her to the ground with a thud. Vegeta was in shock for moment, not believing a wounded man could do such a thing.

                It was only a moment though as the spiked ball ripped across his left cheek cutting a few deep channels. He had to be quick before the kneeling man could maneuver the weapon. Throwing all tact out the window he jumped on the man and grabbed the flail himself.

                With his two hands on it, Vegeta figured it would not be swinging anywhere. He let out a battle cry and kneed the man as best he could. His blows having minimal effect, the man let go of one hand and began punching Vegeta with all his might.

                The world became a blur as blow after blow landed on his helmet and face. Vegeta tasted his own coppery blood in his mouth. Soft thuds reverberated through his head along with a crunch. Still he held on determined to win the fight, as the darkness started to set in.

                In a last ditch effort he let go of one hand and reached onto his belt. He drew another dagger and stabbed blindly at the man’s other knee. Vegeta smiled as he was rewarded with another cry. He twisted the blade to hurt his opponent more and heard a louder cry of pain.

                Then he felt two armored hands on his throat like a vice. They closed tighter and tighter as he began to claw at them. He fell to his knees as well. All the strength left in him was ebbed away every moment he didn’t have air.

                Then he was let go. Vegeta fell forward on top of his opponent. A familiar dagger had found the giant’s neck. Kakarot gave him slight nod as he fell to ground with little grace. The lifeblood was now draining from him and joining the red river on the ground.

                Vegeta just laid there a moment. Or perhaps it was a day. Time was fickle at the moment. It could have been an hour or a lifetime he could hardly tell at the moment.

                He looked up and saw the clouds finally breaking. The rain had stopped. As if the gods had finally given up for the day and gone home. He almost wondered if it would be a fine day later on to fish or swim in the sea.

“Vegeta,” a voice called him back.

He turned to see Jenounes standing there. He carried his helmet in hand with a giant bloody two handed sword in the other. Curious, he did not send for the man. He was supposed to be in the rear with Biorr. Perhaps something had happened.

“Can you understand me?” He asked the prince.

“What happened?” Vegeta wondered.

“We have to go. The army is in retreat,” Jenounes informed him.

                Vegeta was floored. He couldn’t believe it. Retreat now after all they had sacrificed? It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. There must be some mistake. This was not how the tales were supposed to go.

                He looked at the wooden door of his prize. It had to be undefended now. They had killed him. Somehow the three of them had killed its last defender. If they only held on a little more and pushed a little further victory would be theirs.

“Stay with me,” Jenounes said to him. “I don’t have all the details. I only heard the horns myself. But we must leave. If we stay here we’ll be caught and outnumbered by the enemy.”

Vegeta could feel a tear fall down his bloody cheek. Or perhaps it was a raindrop. It rolled over soft flesh and fell to the earth. It must have been the rain or sweat, he reasoned.

He looked over at Kakarot still face down in the red river running along the floor. Adrestia was murmuring and holding her head. Perhaps it was just a bridge too far. Vegeta tested his own limbs. Dull aches and stabbing pains greeted him. He could push them no farther, hell he could barely stand himself.

“Let’s go,” He finally conceded.

0-0-0

Turles was furious. He along with the other surviving commanders who were not too injured had been summoned to the command tent once again.  He was still in his full battle gear. Blood and mud clung to him like a blanket. He stood in the back with the other mercenary captains away from the regular army officers.

He drank from his wineskin with little care for decorum at the moment. Turles himself was exhausted. He had spent hours fighting in the damn mud and atop the walls. Just when they had almost taken the fucking gatehouse the army retreated.

                On top of that at least half his men were casualties of the last battle. A third of them had died on the field, the rest were injured. Many had already succumbed to their injuries. Many more would follow suit. All his men lost, and they had little to show for it.

                Lord Barco was still absent. The Narbian officers were arguing amongst themselves. The younger officers pointed fingers and shouted at some of the older ones. A few looked like they were about to exchange blows any second.

                He heard rumors earlier that a few of the main commanders in the regular army had retreated once things started to get tough. They simply left most of the mercenaries atop the walls to fend for themselves. Of course they did. These fine gentlemen had little real care for him and his men.

“Your unit retreated because of a little arrow fire?” claimed one officer.

“A little? We lost a third of our men to their first volley alone,” another corrected the man.

                He honestly didn’t feel like biting his tongue right now. He always prided himself on picking good contracts where his men didn’t die needlessly. Sure some death was unavoidable, this was war after all. But needless death is a cardinal sin amongst mercenaries.

                Turles was about to say something to the bickering when Lord Barco walked and through his forceful presence silenced them. He gave an icy stare that could chill the bones of any man over the room. His red and black uniform was tattered and dirty. A crossbow bolt was still stuck in one of his pauldrons.

                He rounded to his seat without a word and sat down. Turles looked around and no one said a word. It was quiet as a temple morning here. Turles had never seen such a thing before, it quite amused him.

“Well?” Lord Barco asked to no one in particular.

“My lord, we still have enough men to either maintain the siege or fight the relief army but not both now,” An older commander informed him.

“I see,” was all Barco said.

                His brow furrowed as he weighed his options. The hush remained over the crowd. No one not even Turles would dare interrupt him now. Both choices were extremely dangerous. Turles barely had enough men to must a proper fight at the moment. At least one on the scale they were expecting.

Just then a messenger appeared and shouted, “A report my lord.”

“What is it?” Barco queried in no mood for games tonight.

“The relief army has been spotted three days march from here,” the messenger answered bluntly.

                The silence broke. There were curses abound and shouts of disbelief. A few were even crying in frustration. Turles could hardly blame any of them. He kind of wanted to do all of those things right now. Instead he simply crossed his arms and spit.

“Silence!” Barco roared rising from his seat. “Who are they?”

“They appear to bear the crest of the golden eagle my lord,” the messenger further informed him.

“Seriously? What country is that? No major power has worn that since Tiberia fell.” A commander questioned aloud.

“A golden eagle how pretentious,” A commander agreed with a sneer.

“Who cares why they are here? All that matters is we have to fight them to finish this war,” Another commander replied simply.

Barco agreed, “He is right. We can guess the why later. For now assemble any man who can still carry a sword. We’ll crush them and besiege the city once more.”

“We should wait for them here. Our army could use the extra rest,” an officer suggested.

“Against a rabble from who knows where? Surely you jest,” Another mocked.

Barco held his hand up for silence, then ordered, “We march to meet them. We’ll hit them as they cross the Saone.”

                Turles said nothing. He just remained silent. However in his mind, ideas were running rampant. Perhaps this campaign was lost. A good captain also knew when to cut and run. He could still take all the pay he collected so far and leave. Perhaps it was time to leave these men to their fate.

                Even if they crossed the river, they still had a fresh army. While the force he was in was battered. And they would have to leave to some behind to maintain the siege. It all boded ill to him. He looked at the other captains took one more swig of wine and walked out.

0-0-0

Kakarot ate his food slowly. As good as the chicken and garlic soup was he didn’t want to eat too fast and open his stiches. It had taken the healers hours to stich him up. Though the worst of it was his head injury he supposed.

                He felt fine. He was a little light headed when he stood up but he was otherwise normal. He sure bled a lot though. That was because wounds in the head bled more or so he was told by them. Supposedly he would be back normal in a few days or weeks.

                He looked across at Vegeta and Adrestia. Vegeta seems to have broken two fingers in his right hand. They were held in wooden splints. It looked like he was having trouble eating as well with two fingers of his main hand locked straight; he had trouble gripping his spoon.  He couldn’t hold a sword properly. Kakarot knew Vegeta practiced with his left, he was unsure how effective that would be in a fight.

                Vegeta also had a broken nose that had been set. He was assured it would look more or less normal when it healed. Kakarot smiled a little at that. There he was wounded again and how he looked still mattered to him. That was his old friend all right.

                Adrestia was being tended to by Iustitia. She waived the girl off several times already and insisted she was fine. Apparently the fall to ground merely made her lose consciousness. Though Kakarot was certain the healers told her much the same thing they told him. A head injury was a head injury. She was lucky not to break anything.

                Kakarot rubbed his cheek. A massive black and blue bruise was right on his cheekbone. He swore it felt broken, but they had assured him it was intact. It still hurt though. He felt like sleeping for a week after all they had been through.

                Jenounes and Biorr walked up to the group and joined them, each with his own bowl and spoon in hand. Surprisingly little happened to either man that day, at least injury wise. They both only had a few nicks and scratches to deal with. Nothing major like the other knights. Kakarot was certainly impressed given how the rest of them faired.

“We just got word from Captain Turles,” Jenounes informed them. “Apparently we are mobilizing for some big attack outside the city.”

“Another assault on the walls?” Iustitia wondered aloud.

“No, no this one appears to be to intercept the army heading this way,” Biorr revealed.

“Is any attack wise given the state of the army?” Vegeta questioned rather harshly.

“Wise or not we go,” Jenounes shrugged. “We rarely pick our assignments on campaigns like this one. So if the Captain says we go, we go.”

“Seems like the better option would be to wait until they get here and give our forces a chance to rest,” Adrestia pointed out.

“Perhaps but we can also catch them by surprise by marching to them,” Biorr replied.

“I suppose arguing about hypothetical situations is a moot point,” Vegeta grumbled.

“You can stay if you are too wounded to fight,” Biorr commented to no one in particular.

“And let you two represent our squad alone? I think not,” Vegeta declared. “As your commander I am going.”

“Well if he’s in, I’m in,” Kakarot chimed in.

“Might as well be fools together,” Adrestia voiced with a shrug.

“I’d like to come too my lady,” Iustitia said tentatively.

                All eyes were on the little lady. There had been a concerted effort among the squad to keep her out of situations that were too dangerous. She was still young after all. Still they could not leave her here anyway. Not by herself better to keep her close by.

“Only as far as the camp,” Adrestia ordered. “You will ready our gear in case we need a hasty withdrawal.

“Let’s have another drink then, never know what tomorrow brings,” Jenounes called out holding his mug high.

Vegeta clinked his own mug with it, “I’ll second that.”

                If this was to be their last night together, let it be a good memory of songs, food and drink. Soon all three were happening at once. Jenounes began telling jokes from his homeland. Kakarot ate all the food he could. Adrestia hummed a happy tune. The squad enjoyed their last night of calm.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ but it would be a lot cooler if I did...**

**AN: Moving right along. This story is chugging now. I feel good with a few chapters put out in a row. Especially after a rough week at work. Enjoy!**

The wind had a chill in the air. The weather was starting to turn. It was no longer summer. The autumn cold had begun to set in. It cold enough to see a man’s breath in the air but not enough to snow.

At the very least it made the march to this place much easier. Their forces had managed to get here just as the enemy crossed the river. It was too bad they could not prevent them from crossing the river. Apparently there had been a big cavalry skirmish.

                The sky was gloomy and overcast. It was the kind of day where there might be no true sunlight at all. Two armies stared at each other across a clearing. Each was preparing for the slaughter of the other. Neither had ever faced each other before.

                 The Narbian scouts could never hold back a force of this size. Looking at it now it seems inevitable. A few light cavalry units could hardly stop such a huge army. It looked like over ten thousand men to Vegeta. That was just the heavy infantry on the field. That didn’t include the auxiliary forces of the cavalry which he could not see.

Vegeta looked across the clearing stunned at what he saw. It was an army. A true army not some ragtag force joined together. These men all bore the same colors and wore the similar armor. They were united by a single commander. He could make out three golden eagles on three high banners with numbers on them. They bore old imperial numbers from ten to twelve.

                The front lines moved perfectly. Perfectly formed heavy infantry marched in rows in full kit with heavy shields. Every line was in step and unison. It halted at a perfect pace just across the field. Vegeta was in awe. He had heard about such things in theory and his squad had even practiced marching drills. However nothing prepared him to see such precision and coordination on such a large scale.

                He gripped hilt of his sword tightly in his left hand. He looked around to see the banged up band of mercenaries he was in. He knew that half of Turles’s men were already out and injured. The ones who could fight were not at full strength either.

                As he looked over the purple and gold standards across the field every fiber of his being cried out in warning. They should not be attacking a force like that. They should have waited in Martea. He didn’t exactly have any good ideas of what they should do save withdrawal.

“Who are they?” Biorr called out curiously.

“I heard a scout saying they claim to be from the Tiber Empire,” Kakarot mentioned to everyone.

“I thought there was no Tiber Empire anymore,” Jenounes reminded everyone.

“Not necessarily, while it’s true that the empire fractured over four hundred years ago, there are several remnants and kingdoms left over in the east, “Vegeta corrected warily.

“This is from your studies?” Biorr asked him.

“Not really more like a combination from my history tutor and my father’s advisors,” Vegeta said with a hand on his chin. “Even I don’t know much about it. Saiya is quite a long way from the old eastern part of the empire.”

                The horns rang out across the lines. They all knew what that meant. Even if they didn’t want to it was time to advance.  Turles walked out in front in full battle armor waiving his sword high. The silver lion banner flew just behind him with its bearer. He pointed his sword towards the enemy lines and the Silver Lions began to move.

                Vegeta drew his blade and walked with the others. Kakarot stepped in beside him, intent of using his shield for both of them if it came to it. Jenounes strode with his great sword resting on his left shoulder. Biorr held his mighty bear axe in both hands.

                 Adrestia was missing from their lineup today. It would only be Biorr, Jenounes and Kakarot with Vegeta in this fight. While she wasn’t too banged up, she insisted she stay with Iustitia this time. She said something about not leaving her squire alone this time. Vegeta chose not to argue with her. As much as he needed Adrestia, he didn’t want to leave Iustitia by herself in case this battle did not go their way.

                Vegeta walked reasonably confident. He still had some of his best men with him. His blade was sharp and honed. His armor was also intact and could reasonably resist what a shield could not.

                On the other side horns blared and orders were shouted down the line and repeated by sub officers. Each of the heavily armored men began to move in line. They stopped roughly two hundred paces from their foes at the sound of another round of horns.  Vegeta was unsure of what they were doing at first until something else from his classical warfare studies came back to him.

“Shields!” He called out in warning, but it was too late.

                A rain of spears hit the entire line of infantry. Men cried out at they were impaled. Others cursed as the spears dug into their wooden shields rendering them useless. The lucky few who had metal shields were relatively safe as the spears only hit them with the full force of being thrown.

                Vegeta was exceedingly lucky. A loud knock cracked in front of him. He was staring right at a spear point only a breath or two from his face.  He stared at the thing that practically had his name on for an eternity. Then it was tossed aside casually along with the now useless wooden shield they had been issued.

“Whew,” said Kakarot. “That was close.”

“You’re telling me,” Vegeta agreed.

“Well that was my only shield so let’s hope they don’t do that again,” Kakarot joked a bit grimly.

“They won’t they only carry one throwing spear if I remember correctly,” Vegeta recalled.

“What now?” Kakarot asked him.

                That barrage had practically stopped their advance in its tracks. Around them it looked other mercenary companies kept looking behind them with furtive glances. That was a bad sign. All it takes is one retreating unit to turn this mess into a disaster.

“Now they try and finish us in hand to hand,” Vegeta informed them all.

“Let them try,” Biorr called out and swung his axe in a hungry arc.

                Another call rang out on the lines and they began to advance again. Each step was slow, deliberate and calculated. This was the difference between a well-trained army and mob of rabble. It was easy for men to get caught up in their emotions and rush the enemy in an all-out charge. True soldiers held it in, marched with their peers and cut down the enemy one at a time.

                This was the sight that greeted Vegeta as he closed in within a dozen paces of the line. All he saw was an impressive row of shields in his front. No doubt guarded by short swords or spears behind them. He turned to study his own lines, not liking what he saw.

“Kill them all!” Someone cried out from his side.

                Then it began. It was chaos and bedlam.  The entire line rushed the enemy. It crashed straight into the shield wall with varied effects.

                In Vegeta’s section he could not break through. He kicked and stabbed but it seemed like against a brick wall. He barely dodged a thrust of blade aimed at him. He felt it graze off his armor.

“Damn!” He raged in frustration.

                If only he had two good hands! He’d show them. Or perhaps a good Warhammer to break through the line, even disciplined troops were vulnerable to the breaking of a line.

“Get behind me,” Jenounes told him.

                His great crimson armor towered before Vegeta. He gripped his giant sword in both hands and swung it down with a crash. Vegeta swore the big man had split the shield in front of him. He heard a cry of pain and saw a splintered shield on the ground. Before a man could fill the gap, Jenounes swung into the gap horizontally cutting down two more men. Helmets fell to the ground and blood pooled at his feet.

“Is this the best you got?” Jenounes taunted.

                He heard a similar crack a few paces down and saw Biorr doing the same thing with his two handed great axe. Kakarot was behind him, ready to strike. Vegeta seized the moment changed in. Gauntlets deflected one blow as he thrust his sword into another man.

                Things were going well for them then a horn call rang out. Almost as one the line they broken into stepped back and another marched forward to replace them. Vegeta did not like the looks of it. Unlike the previous men, these men all looked scarred. They were all in their thirties. **Veterans,** Vegeta thought grimly.

                A shield knocked Vegeta back. He was dazed by the blow and nearly dropped his sword. All the ground he had taken was given up. He heard moans of agony and cries of all around him. He looked up to see their forces being cut down mercilessly.

“Retreat!”  Someone called out.

                Vegeta could not tell who it was. It hardly mattered. Their will was broken now. The flood had begun. Men began to turn and run all around him. There was no stopping the tide now. His men were beginning a slow withdrawal to him. They struck down enemies that got too close as they reached him. They all bored tired and frustrated looks on their faces.

“Let’s go,” He said simply and turned his back to the battlefield.

0-0-0

At the camp, two female mercenaries were held back along with others too injured to fight at the front today. Frost was still on the ground as the morning dew had frozen and the sun had yet to melt it away. The lines of tents for the mercenaries were scatted rather haphazardly. Each had a fire going to guard against the cold. They were safely behind the lines of the battlefield.

Inside the main squad tent, Adrestia helped Iustitia pack. She had a bad feeling about today's events. So she packed their belongings in a hurry just in case. It had taken most of the morning but they were just about finished. The others had better be grateful they bothered to pack up their belongings as well.

"Why are we packing up when no one else is?" Iustitia asked packing away some maps into a chest.

Adrestia reminded her, "It pays to be prepared my young squire. You don’t want to leave anything behind if we have to leave in a hurry."

"Of course my lady,” Iustitia replied, not fulling understanding, but humoring her lady anyway.

Iustitia packed the last of Kakarot’s things in his chest. She didn’t bother locking it. He could do that himself when he came back. Or if they were really in a hurry, they could do that later. Who knows? This was the first time anyone ever mentioned fleeing before. She really had no idea what to expect.

The sound of hooves interrupted her thoughts. It must be as scout or messenger she thought at first. That was until she heard more than one horse. It sounded like at least several dozen riders. Iustitia had no idea what that was about. Perhaps a unit was being recalled and relocated from the front.

Adrestia looked worried and grabbed her sword belt and fastened it to her. She threw Iustitia her blade as well. The squire took it without question and remained alert. It must have been serious for them to be armed. A scream caught their attention along with the sound of a rider running through camp. Then another and another filled the air.

“Ambush!” Someone called out.

“To arms! To arms!” cried another.

                Adrestia drew her sword and grabbed hold of her shield. She signaled for her squire to get behind her. It was not technically an ambush. More likely this far back it was a cavalry raid. She took a few cautious steps towards the flap of the tent. She was hoping it was light cavalry. It didn’t sound heavy. They stood no chance against mounted armored foes. At least with light cavalry if their initial charge was broken they could kill or escape the riders.

                She opened the flap and stepped outside slowly as not to draw undue attention to anyone. It was quiet outside. It was unnaturally so, for a raid. She saw a body lying just two tents over doubled down on the ground. Another tent was sprayed with crimson.

                A spear rushed by her in a whirl and struck the ground. She turned instantly facing a rider in black armor at the end of the tents. He had a fierce look about him and wore a helmet decorated by a wolf’s head. He seemed unfazed by missing and reached for another spear.

                Adrestia stared the rider down and signaled for Iustitia to remain in the tent. She slowly positioned herself near the spear impaled in the ground. He shouted something in a language she didn’t know and braced himself to ride her down. Without losing her calm, she dropped her sword and picked up the fallen spear. With no time for proper form, she threw it with all her might.

                It struck the rider in the shoulder, not fatally unfortunately. Adrestia sidestepped the fleeing horse as its rider fell down with a crash. As he lay on the ground moaning and pulling at the spear impaled in him, Adrestia picked up her sword once more. She glanced around carefully as she closed in. Riders never came alone.

                As she reached the supine figure, she heard a clapping sound. She turned her head to see a mounted man in a purple cloak and bronze armor with a golden eagle on his chest. He had a strangely amused look on his face and dyed purple hair. He was flanked by two more men in black armor.

“That was a good show,” He told her. “Are there any more of you?”

“None,” Adrestia lied as she got into a battle stance.

“I doubt that,” the man called out contemptuously. “No matter, we’ll soon sort it all out.”

“I assume you are their commander,” Adrestia sneered.

“You can,” the man called out. “I am Centurion Cui.”

“Then fight me like a true commander,” Adrestia prodded hoping for a typical male response.

                The man just laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. The men beside him bore an unusual stony faces. She could not read any of this. She was sure calling him out would work.

“While I’d love nothing more than to get hot and heavy with a beauty like you, my general has ordered me to take prisoners,” Cui said with a shrug. “And you know orders are orders.”

“Coward!” Adrestia called out.

“I prefer prudent,” Cui retorted with a smug smile.

                He said something in that guttural language his men spoke and more riders bore down on her slowly. This time from multiple sides with their spear points pointed right at her. Adrestia swore as she heard rustling from within the tent. She lunged forward only for Iustitia to pop out with her hands up. Behind her a rough looking man with a scarred lip and black armor came out.

“Not as pretty as you but she’ll do,” Cui called out. “Surrender or I’ll have my men show her a very good time.”

                Adrestia dropped her sword and lifted her arms in the air. Looking into the heartbroken teary eyes of her squire she knew she made the right choice. Fate had already taken Nerine from her. She’d be damned if it demanded Nerine’s little sister too.

0-0-0

Summer had officially ended as the first frost set in a week back. Now it was time for the Harvest festival. Every cultural and civilization had some sort of festival to celebrate the harvest, it was no different in Saiya. Even in the mostly urban capital of Vegos, a full of week of celebrations had kicked off.

Lord Tizona was in the grand hall with the other lords and ladies of the court. He was a tall man in his forties, but like most Saiyans he retained a youthful appearance of a man in his early thirties. Saiyans were blessed by their gods to remain fit for combat far later in life than other races. He kept his hair close cropped, like his soldiering days, and bore a surprisingly carefully trimmed beard.

He was seated at one of the long tables. Servant girls from the temple, dressed in traditional dresses, weaved in and out and brought all the guests food and drink. He eyed the one who brought him his wine hungrily. She was young maybe sixteen, bust just ripe enough to pluck if he inclined to do so. He simply sighed and drank deeply from his cup.

He recalled the previous King had more than indulged in such behaviors at this time of year. In the past each year a virgin was offered by the temple each year to be deflowered by the king. It was supposed to be an ancient tradition that linked the Mother of All Saiyans to her people. Tizona suspected it was simply a way for old kings to have sex with pretty maidens well into old age.

He would never know the truth of it. Tradition or not, it ended when the current Queen to her place at court. **Women ruin everything** , Tizona thought grimly. Though he could hardly blame the king for giving into her demands, even after two children she had the body of a nymph.

His wife has chosen to back at their Vegos residence tonight. He could hardly blame her even he did not have the stamina for entire week of nonstop merrymaking. He was not as young as he used to be. Still politics demanded that at least one representative from each family be present each night until the celebrations ended. He could hardly leave that to his daughters either, even if one wasn’t gone to gods knew where.

His thoughts were interrupted by a handsome golden haired lord and his dark haired companion who sat down next to him. His mood soured almost instantly. Atreus and Harkon, they were dissenting lords of an old broken faction who were extinguished in the last war. Tizona hated their kind. Pretentious upstarts from houses whose glory had faded.

It had been so long ago he nearly forgot, but he was pretty sure he slew Atreus’s uncle in the last war. Or was it Harkon’s? Hard to say there were a lot of rebel lords back then with too many sons. He and the rest of the loyal Warrior Faction had thinned their herd a lot. It hardly mattered that they were nobles; they were not Vegeans so it didn’t matter. He was a direct descendant of one of Vegeta the First’s companions. Who were these men? They were descendants of the vanquished and lucky to have kept their titles at all.

“Good evening, Tizona,” Harkon said with slightly haughty smile.

“Evening,” Tizona replied gruffly.

“Dining alone I see,” Atreus chimed in.

“My wife and daughters chose to retire early this evening,” He informed them politely.

“How is your daughter? Adrestia wasn’t she called,” Harkon casually prodded.

“Don’t play dumb. You know perfectly well I have no idea,” Tizona answered.

“I do, it’s a shame I hear she is quite a beauty and right in the marriage age if memory serves,” Harkon implied with a smile.

“You don’t mean to suggest,” Tizona began but was cut off.

“Of course I do. I am head of my house now and have to look after my future like any lord,” Harkon reminded him coolly.

“No,” Tizona said sharply.

“Why not?” Atreus questioned. “A match with House Harkon would do you great honors. It would raise your daughter to a Duchess, a higher station than your current lordship. Or are you holding out for a royal match?”

                Tizona was silent. In truth he was still hoping for such a thing. Princess Adrestia Tizona Saiya, it was still a dream of his to make it so. It was whole reason he agreed to let her pursue that foolish prince to begin with.

                Yet he got back no encouraging news as of late from his daughter. He only knew that they were somewhere along the coast. She didn’t even mention how she got along with the prince in her letters. Tizona didn’t even know he bed her or not. Though it would be a minor scandal, a pregnancy even out of wedlock would cement his goals for her and his house.

“I see. Well far be it from me to crush those dreams,” Harkon conveyed casually. “However if I may make a suggestion, you have more than one daughter.”

                Tizona was quiet again. While he had more courtly status as one of the nobles of true Vegean blood, it was also true that House Tizona was far from a Great House. His family could use the increased status and wealth such a match could provide. Harmonia’s other suitors were from houses not nearly as wealthy as Harkon, even if he hated to admit that.

“I’ll introduce you to her, nothing more yet,” Tizona relented.

“A fair compromise, you can still weigh your options and I can meet another noble Saiyaness,” Harkon agreed with a smile.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ but it would be a lot cooler if I did...**

**AN: Been a bit since my last chapter. But I never abandoned it I swear. I’m still working on it if only slowly.**

Adrestia kneeled near a large table in the center of a huge tent. Iustitia was next to her.  Unfortunately they had been captured by those black riders in camp. Their hands were bound in leather straps and gagged. Their armor and weapons were stripped from them, so they were left wearing simple breeches and shirts.

Each of them had a soldier in dark armor looming over them. While the commander in his purple and gold armor stood beside them with a haughty expression on his face. He was clearly awaiting his own commander, in order to present them as some sort of prize. Adrestia wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

She had failed both herself and her squire. But what could she do? They had used their numbers to overwhelm them. Even she did not have inexhaustible stamina. At best they might have been able to run away if they were lucky.

She wriggled her wrists once more, and then let out a grunt of frustration. The bounds were definitely secure. These were no amateurs. If only they were just a little looser. She sighed slightly, these was no clear way out of her. She was in the middle of the enemy camp.

“Calm down beautiful, it will all be over soon,” the purple haired centurion told her with a smug smirk.

                Adrestia glared at him as he lifted her shin to admire her face.  He simply laughed at her. He ran a well-manicured index finger along her cheek. It was surprising for a man in his profession to take such care of his nails.

“I wish I could keep you for myself, believe me,” He whispered in her ear. “But orders are orders and I could gain a lot of favor with the general just by handing you in.”

Adrestia didn’t know what he meant. However it didn’t matter based on his tone she had an idea and didn’t like. She was no maiden to be claimed.  She was a noble Saiyaness and a Knight of Saiya.

 She grunted loudly in the gag in fury as another man entered the tent. He was tall and handsome with a long green braid of hair. He wore surprisingly golden armor that seemed to glitter slightly in the candle light. A great golden eagle adorned his chest and a rich deep purple cape flowed behind him. This man had to be the general. Even though he appeared to be only in his late twenties, he had an air of authority and command about him.

“What have you brought me Cui?” the general asked the centurion.

“Something special General Zarbon, I took prisoners just as you ordered. However I was quite surprised to find a woman of this quality there,” Cui informed him.

Zarbon looked her over and agreed, “You did quite well good job.”

“She doesn’t appear to be a camp follower, or a whore. She was dressed in armor when I found her and even took one of our men,” Cui continued to recall.

“Really? That’s quite a feat,” Zarbon said with interest. “I’ll see you are suitable rewarded for this.”

                Zarbon then turned his attention to Iustitia. For her part the girl was shaken and sullen Adrestia noted. It wasn’t exactly like they ever talked about the possibility of capture. In either case it was her duty to ensure that the girl lived no matter the cost. She owed that much to Nerine and the rest of the Lobera family.

“What of the little one?” Zarbon asked. “You know I’m not into children. She looks barely into her teens.”

“Well sir, we found them together. So my guess they have some sort of relation. That might be useful right?” Cui guessed.

“You have a devious mind my friend of course it will be,” Zarbon replied with a dangerous tone.

                Adrestia gave a muffled sound of distaste at their comments. It only led to a few hearty laughs from both men. The general then walked over and removed her gag. She coughed for a bit as she tasted fresh air. She composed herself and looked defiantly at him.

“We are not property to be bartered with!” Adrestia demanded.

Zarbon laughed, “Of course you are. Surely you have heard of the term, ‘To the victor go the spoils.’ You would be the spoils.”

                Zarbon taking a chance lifted up Iustitia’s downcast face. Then he looked over her young body as he appraised her face as well. Adrestia squirmed in protested. That made him simply smile. He dropped his arm and turned his attention back to his real target.

“Leave her alone!” She cried out.

“She’s not as beautiful as you are. Though she’s not without her charms,” Zarbon commented.

“She’s just a girl,” Adrestia protested.

“Oh and what will you do to see that she is untouched?” Zarbon asked with a dark tone.

Adrestia was silent at his question. She knew what he wanted. She had known what all men wanted of her since her breasts first started to grow. It was exactly what her mother warned her about even before that.

She couldn’t just give it to him. But what choice did she have? As a captive he could simply take it from them both if he wanted. Even worse he could let his men and officers have them both. She shuddered at bit at that thought.

If being forced to whore herself to one man was bad enough, she could not accept the possibility of many. She’d be an outcast. Never able to show herself to her family again or marry anyone decent. She almost laughed at that, instead she merely thought glumly. Marry? Perhaps she was still a silly little girl hoping for a good match after all.

She had to do whatever this man asked on certain conditions. She couldn’t let him debase her squire. She’d never forgive herself. They must both also be kept safe from anyone else. Then she’d let him _do_ …things to her.

“I’ll give you what you want,” She told him. “If you promise to keep us both safe and not touch her.”

“I usually don’t make deals with captives, but I’ll make an exception here,” Zarbon laughed, “All right we have a deal.”

0-0-0

Turles stood amongst the survivors. His armor was dented in places. He could feel drops of either blood, sweat or both running down his body. A dull after battle ache seemed to pervade amongst his limbs. He was still breathing hard from their escape. But now they were a reasonable distance beyond the cavalry pursuit force.

He looked around sighed. Less than half of his men were here. And those that were here, at least one third of them were wounded. He took stock of everything. **Fuck!** He thought grimly. How did things go so wrong? This time he was certainly mistaken on that last battle.

The men around him were going through the ruins of their old encampment. He had hid here amongst the burned out tents and supplies of the army camp. The thought process was that no sane person would think to hide here. So when they did, they were lucky the enemy horsemen just rode on by.

He should have cut his losses last night. If he had left then his whole company would still be more or less intact. Sure they would have not completed their mission, but it was better than them all dying for a lost cause. Such a loss could easily be the end of him.

“Salvage what you can men,” He ordered all those in earshot. “We’re going to regroup at Narbo.”

                His eyes were weary all of the sudden. As if the weight of the battle finally hit him. He nearly collapsed right where he stood. Instead he took a deep breath and walked over to the collapsed command tent.

                All of the maps were gone. The table he had was turned over. The tent itself was ripped and partially burned. He was also pretty sure his private chest was gone as well. Oh well, they were just material things. Materials could be regained and built back up.

                It was then that Jenounes and Biorr walked up to him. They looked exhausted. He could see dents in their armor and blood drenched on their tabards. Each man had a despondent look on his face. Still, Turles was glad to see them both. At least two of his elite warriors had survived the onslaught.

“It’s good to see you both,” Turles said simply. “Where is the rest of Vegeta Squad?”

                They were both oddly silent. A pained look was exchanged between the two. Turles was unsure of what to make of it. He could only sense that it wasn’t good.

“We don’t know,” Jenounes answered. “We saw Vegeta and Kakarot get captured. We couldn’t find the other two.”

                Turles’s face grimaced a bit. Capture was bad, especially for a mercenary. Unlike the regular army whose ransom could be paid by the government, mercenaries were generally left to rot. And there was nothing more he could do for them. It was a shame, but he would have to move on with the rest of his shattered company.

“We’re going back for them,” Biorr said boldly.

“Why? They’re goners, let’s just pack and get out of here,” Turles said.

Jenounes shook his head and said, “No.”

“No?” Turles repeated, shocked that they would disagree with him.

“We’re not going to leave them to their fate,” Biorr told him.

                Turles fumed. He could not believe what he was hearing. He had sent them to watch over this rookie squad nothing more. How could they be willing to risk so much to rescue them? They were at the same battle he was. The prisoners were no doubt beyond their reach already.

“You can’t reach them, it’s insane to even try,” Turles reminded them both.

                A great lingering pause filled the space between them. A pin drop could have been heard as no one said a word. Turles searched the eyes of his men hoping they would come back to their senses. Surely they had to know this was a fool’s errand.

                Jenounes crossed his great red arms and stood defiant. He spit out some blood from his mouth and stared right into Turles’s soul it felt like. Biorr leaned casually against a post, pretending the situation wasn’t as dire as it was.

“All the same we are going after them.” Jenounes reiterated. “We’ll go alone if we must. We just wanted to see if you were gonna help or not.”

                Turles scoffed and broke eye contact. He had lost and he knew it. This fucking day was just getting worse and worse. It had been years since he faced such a disaster. This was one of those times he wished he wasn’t a captain, but the burden was his and his alone.

                He threw his helmet on the ground in frustration and kicked it. Damn it all to hell! This was not what he wanted at all. For fuck’s sake these two were supposed to be professionals. A good mercenary does not throw his life away on a hopeless cause. That was exactly what it appeared to be to him.

                He remained did not answer them. He cursed the heavens for his luck. It would be so much harder to start a new company without these two. They knew it too. It was their leverage against him. The two big men started to turn and leave.

“Wait,” Turles called out to them. “I won’t risk everyone here. But I’ll gather a few abled bodied men and we’ll see what we can do.”

0-0-0

Zarbon walked into the dismal stockade all refreshed and full of himself. He wore only a light robe and a few bits of gold to denote his command status. The guards and torturers snapped to attention.

“What can we do for you general?” A guard asked humbly.

“Take me to the Saiyan mercenaries,” Zarbon commanded.

“Right away,” The guard responded.

                He walked confidently among the ugly and blood stained floors. The guard kept a respectful distance with a torch ahead of him. The smell of horror his nostrils, some he recognized as blood, bile and unwashed bodies. Some he did not.

Still nothing could break his happy mood. He was absolutely giddy. He could hide the spring in his step, nor the smirk on his face. Despite coming to such a foul smelling and dour place, nothing could faze him. He just had to speak to her comrades, something in him loved the idea and so here he was.

He absolutely relished his time with his Saiyan plaything.  He honestly could not believe his luck. He expected a woman of such beauty and in such company to have had a lover or two in his past. He was not expecting to be the man who took her virtue.

They stopped outside a dark and dingy cell no different than the others that lined the hall. Inside were two men with bare torsos chained to a wall. They both looked in his direction with mild curiosity as he entered the cell. Both their bodies were covered with bruises and open cuts. No doubt from daily sessions with the torturer.

“Good evening gentlemen,” Zarbon said to them.

                They didn’t respond but he hardly expected them to. They had no idea who he was or anything. Rabble like them were hardly important enough to warrant a commander’s introduction. Still they were her companions. He simply had to find them.

“My name is Zarbon. I am the commander here,” He informed them. “I see you find the accommodations to your liking.”

“Oh yes very hospitable,” the shorter one said dryly.

                It was just then that Zarbon noted he only had one eye. He must be the one the emperor spoke of. He didn’t seem all that special. The man was below average height compared to his companion and most Saiyans Zarbon ever met. His musculature while proficient was hardly exceptional.

“I have been enjoying the company of your beautiful companion Adrestia, quite the woman for a Saiyaness,” Zarbon said pointedly.

                Their attention perked up at the mere mention of her name. Zarbon could hear the chains rattle in the dark. They both had a more serious look on their face now. Zarbon smugly grinned. He had them and he knew it.

“Where is she?” the taller one called out.

“She and her little friend are both being kept in my personal care.” Zarbon told them. “I can hardly leave them in here with you two; they are such delicate beauties after all.

“If you touch either one I’ll…” the short one began.

Zarbon cut him off, “You’ll what? Threaten me with empty threats? Look around you. Whose camp do you think this is?”

                Zarbon laughed as the men tensed then relaxed. He was right of course. He knew men often said such things of their women. Yet they could do nothing as his prisoners. Better yet as mercenaries no one was going to pay for them. So they were basically his to play with.

“Which one of you is Vegeta?” Zarbon asked them, pretending he didn’t know.

“I am,” the shorter one eyed one called out.

“Well I’d like to thank you Vegeta. See I thought she was your lover. But it seems you left her intact. Thanks for that,” Zarbon taunted with glee.

                A look of fury passed on Vegeta’s faced. Both men pulled at their restraints hoping to get to him. They let out growls of frustration as the chains rattled fruitlessly. Zarbon could only laugh. They were helpless.

“You bastard,” the taller one said to him.

“It’s hardly my fault you didn’t take her. Though I can’t understand why, she is truly exquisite. I want you to know that,” Zarbon told them.

“I’ll kill you!” Vegeta cried out in a rage.

“No you won’t. You’ll rot here in this cage knowing that every night your dear Adrestia is giving herself to me over and over,” Zarbon said calmly.

                Zarbon simply turned his heel and left them. Even with his back turned he could heard them thrashing as the guard locked the door. He had enough of this place. It was time to have the girl summoned to his chambers again. He would have her give him a massage tonight.


End file.
